


Stowaway

by laCommunarde



Category: DC's Legends of Tomorrow (TV)
Genre: Fix-It, Gen, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Past Child Abuse, Time Shenanigans, spoilers for Legends of Tomorrow: Season 1, teenage Leonard Snart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-03
Updated: 2016-10-03
Packaged: 2018-08-12 19:16:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 22,796
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7945999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/laCommunarde/pseuds/laCommunarde
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Waverider stops off in 1987 to complete some part of a mission or other after the Oculus. When it leaves, it has a teenage stowaway.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The kid had gotten off of work at the ice cream and pizza shop late, but payday was Friday and they let the employees eat however much of the pizza was leftover at the end of the day. Plus they were willing to overlook his "little juvie problem," and trust him around money, and they were too small for his dad to turn over. 

As he trudged up the street, he noticed that his house's light were off and sighed, already knowing the note he would find and therefore being completely unsurprised when he got there and found it shoved between the fading white latticework bars on his door. "Your sister is with the neighbors. I'm at work. Go find yourself somewhere to stay for the week." 

He sat down on the curb. At work: that meant a job, but a job that he wasn't needed on. He tried the door, even though he knew it would be locked. At the neighbors: that meant the two little old ladies next door. He checked the lights; all out as well, which meant they had already gone to bed and locked up behind them. He sighed - lockpicking skills it was then, on a house that didn't have an alarm wired directly to the police station, maybe on a garage or something, maybe one of the other neighbors. But then he might have to explain why they couldn't just call his dad; maybe something about how his dad was on a stakeout. Yeah, that would work. Now the only question was: which neighbor? 

He got up off the curb and looked around for which lights were on. Santangelos - but they were nosy and kept saying how sad it was that he had lost his mother. The Clarks - but he had had to explain to them every time he was over how his mother was both Jewish and black, and they would still ask him next time. The Gregory kids hated him, despite him being around the same age as them; he had heard words from the older one like “little good-for-nothing”, from the middle one of “too good with people and too hot” (which made him laugh), and the parents “from wrong side of the tracks”. So that left Babette, where he would stand for an entire evening so she could use him as a model for her sewing, because apparently he had great proportions for that. He started down the street to her place.

A sudden metallic glimmer overhead drew his attention. Not a plane, plane did not glimmer like that and not so close. It glimmered again, and he took in more of it - definitely not a plane, and it seemed to be landing down the street, in the playground and sports park, which made sense as it was the nearest open area around. 

He broke into a run after it and hid in some nearby bushes. There were people getting off it - humans, not sinuey or squat gray or green people, but humans. They appeared to be wearing the right clothes. But that glimmer - he was sure that was a spaceship. The people who got off the ship were interesting, and the kid picked up little clues about each one as he sized them up: an extremely British looking guy in a brown trenchcoat who looked like a younger Doctor Who; a hot blonde woman in what looked like a cross between hippie gear and punk wear, definitely cool; a sweet looking young black man, college kid probably; and a man who looked like a shy, soft-spoken college professor of the type one would expect to see writing notes on a chalkboard that then went into a great discovery, probably several PhDs under his belt; a guy with way too much hair gel who looked like the type of dog that stuck its nose into the butt of skunk while happily wagging its tail; and who the heck was that - the kid's eyes snapped to a bigger man, taller, gruffer, shaved, but in a way that he was doing it for functionality not just to look cool, a little weight around the middle but also strong as hell, and always on his toes - the kid guessed if anything went wrong, he'd deal with it before the others had a chance to gather they were in danger, probably with that gun he had on his side; he was packing some heat if he was carrying a thing that size around; it looked like a flamethrower. 

They started walking towards the actual city of Keystone. The kid followed them. They were apparently here to pick up something, and despite the British man's worry, which he kept voicing, the pick-up went off without a hitch. The kid found the punk women and the dangerous guy's commentary to him funny when they finally got it, and the way the stuffy man threw his hands into the air in frustration afterward. He followed them back to the ship. They filed onto it. The kid made a split second decision and darted aboard: wherever this thing would take him, it was going to be awesome. He only just made it before the door closed and then hid behind a box as the others filed down the hallway. The engines whirred to life, and they were off.

The kid made his way down the hallway after he was certain they had left it. Walls like a cleaner version of the ship in Aliens - no aliens or anything that looked like aliens, thank god - but if it looked like Aliens, were there theoretically floor panels like the ones the little girl had hid under? He leaned down and checked the floor going both directions and grinned. There were in fact floor panels just like in Aliens. Now how to get into them, so he could spy on the people aboard better? 

He found a floor panel that lifted, and he was in. He snuck along in the direction they had gone, under what seemed to be a large room. Big guy was sitting on a chair. The British asshole in the trenchcoat was standing over him, looking condescending and upset. The punk lady was sitting next to the big guy, eyebrow raised. The guy with the hair gel had his hand on his hips, all but posing like a superhero, looking offended. And the professor and the sweet looking young man were standing looking like they really did not want to get involved. “I have to ask why you had to steal the item next to the one we were going for?”

“Rule 101 of stealing things: you don’t just steal one thing or they know what you came for,” the guy said.

“Yes, but you took it with you, as evidenced.”

“I liked it.”

“Mr. Rory, I thought I had reformed you and…”

“Say his name in that context and we’ll find out how much of the Waverider is flammable.”

“I have to say I agree with him,” said the punk lady.

“As do I. He died a hero.”

“Haircut,” the big guy said by way of warning. The kid thought his nickname for hair gel guy was apt and was adopting it immediately. 

A voice overhead that sounded exactly like an AI in a movie said, “Captain, I feel I should inform you that there is one more passenger than the team left with.” 

And that was his cue to leave and find someplace safe. He crawled back under the wall so he wouldn’t be seen through the floor paneling but still have a vantage point from which to see them.

“What?” the British, trenchcoat-wearing man responded to the title of captain. The kid narrowed his eyes at the man and shrugged: of course the trenchcoat wearing man was the captain – why was he not surprised.

“Who?” the cool punk lady frowned.

“A stowaway,” informed the AI – very polite sounding.

“Well, find him,” said the captain.

The AI sounded busy, though the kid hadn’t known how not speaking could sound busy, but it did, and then came back on the line. “He appears to have hidden himself away quite effectively.” The kid had done no such thing, but either way, the ship not being able to find him granted him a few more minutes to check this thing out, maybe get himself a weapon or two so he could explain – somehow he didn’t think the future took kindly to stowaways.

“So we’re going to have to find him ourselves is what you’re saying, Gideon?” the punk lady said. 

“Yes, Miss Lance.”

“Go figure that anytime the tracking device the AI has would be useful, it doesn’t work,” observed the big guy. “You want me to track him down?” he said.

“Yes, I would like you and Ms. Lance to track down our stowaway please.” 

The kid swore to himself. If anyone could, it would probably be those two. He had seen a ladder down to somewhere back a little ways, and figured it was as good a place to check as any for weapons or maybe something valuable that they would have to hear him out before shooting him.

He slipped down the ladder into a room beneath, and found himself looking at a bunch of stacked things, some of which looked very valuable. He picked up one of them – and those were diamonds, honest to goodness diamonds - he put the tray with the diamonds back down. There was a photo frame - the big guy, raising an incredulous eyebrow at the camera while tinkering with something. There were several wallets – whoever had done this must have been an excellent pickpocket. 

Unfortunately, there weren’t exactly many weapons. And he heard them approaching. He ducked behind a box and hoped it hid him. 

The big guy –Mr. Rory, if the kid remembered correctly – came through the door first. And stopped as his face blanched. The kid stood up, having never actually seen someone look as if they had seen a ghost, but that was the nearest description of that expression. He stepped out from behind the box, as Mr. Rory seemed to be trying to decide whether to step forward or flee or… something – the kid couldn’t make out what that emotion was.

The British captain grabbed him by the shoulders and pulled him towards him. For a sickening moment, it seemed like the captain wanted to hit him. The kid squawked – and god, he wished he had a better reaction to people trying to hit him – and threw his arms up in front of his face. 

"Stop it," the big guy put a hand on the captain's shoulder, and pulled his hand off the kid. "Kid, you'd better come with me." The kid glanced at the captain then nodded.

The British guy took a look around. "Mr. Rory, I'm fairly sure I didn't put most of this stuff here. Is it all contraband?"

Mr. Rory grinned momentarily, and the kid knew he was going to like him. "Yeah."

“I like you,” the kid said.

Mr. Rory looked taken aback for a few second then started laughing, as if it was the funniest thing he had ever heard. 

The captain looked less than amused. “I fail to see what exactly is so funny.”

The kid shrugged at the captain, shaking his head in agreement with the captain, which stranger things have happened than him agreeing with this stuck-up man. “I have no idea.”

Mr. Rory stopped laughing and gestured at the kid, “Come on. Let’s bring him up, and introduce him to the team.”

The kid frowned. “You ain’t gonna punish me or anything?”

Mr. Rory looked at the captain, who glared back then back at the kid. “Your punishment will be grunt punishment.”

The kid crossed his arms across his chest. “Which is?” He had a feeling that it would either be manual labor of a type new recruits in the army have to do or a joke, and he was hoping for the latter. 

“You gotta eat the same food we do.” He turned and walked out the way he had come in. 

The kid couldn’t help it. He liked the big guy, Mr. Rory. He found himself chuckling and followed the guy out of the chamber of stuff.

The captain, behind him, commented, “Great. So now we’ve got a stowaway who thinks you’re funny.”

The kid spoke up. “I am sorry, sir, but your ship blinked into and out of existence, and it’s a spaceship, mister captain, sir.”

The captain said, “I don’t suppose me saying please don’t end up like Mr. Rory will do any good.”

“Depends what he’s done.” The kid frowned and thought about it. “Actually, I’m probably gonna end up worse. I’m fifteen and I already did a stint in the can for theft.” 

“Wonderful.” The captain rolled his eyes.

The kid winced, wanting to somehow make a good impression and not get kicked off the ship, but everything he said seemed to be wrong. “But I promise I won’t steal anything from your ship while I’m aboard. It just sounds like you do some thieving of your own, and I’m very good at it. So I’ll be able to earn my keep and won’t touch anything on the ship.”

“Kid, Gideon – that’s the AI – makes food appear on the replicator,” Mr. Rory replied to the line of questioning. “And we got a spare room.”

“Mr. Rory, this is still my ship, if I’m not mistaken.”

Mr. Rory turned around and got in the captain’s face. “And what do you suggest we do with him?”

The captain glared at him. “You mean to bring a child you don’t even know along with us on a very dangerous mission? We don’t even know what effect this will have on the timeline.”

“I plan to let him stay as long as he likes then return him the morning after he stowed away.”

The kid spoke up. “My dad’s out of town, probably for a week. My baby sister’s being cared for by the neighbors. Mom’s dead.”

Mr. Rory swore under his breath. “The week after he stowed away then.”

The captain stared. “Mr. Rory, may I ask why you seem so attached?”

Mr. Rory smiled. “He reminds me of someone.”

The captain stared between the two of them, the big guy with a protective look on his face, even though the kid was fairly sure they had never met, and the kid, who was well aware that he was developing a massive crush. “I give up. If this goes badly, it’s on your head.” He walked ahead.

The kid caught up to the big guy. “Mr. Rory,” Mr. Rory turned to him, and wow being next to him, he was very tall, “sir, is being compared to that person a compliment or an insult?”

“A compliment, kiddo.”

“Thanks.”

They arrived in the room that the kid had been under earlier. “Ahh, you found him?” said the punk lady.

Mr. Rory nodded at the kid. 

“He’s a kid,” the punk lady said.

Mr. Rory turned to the kid. “Explain yourself, kid.”

“I saw your ship blink into and out of existence in the playground and well, it’s a space ship,” the kid explained. “Nobody will miss me for a week. I can steal stuff if you want me to. I can do drudgery. Not very good at it, but I can do it.”

“Mr. Rory appears to have already made the decision that we are taking him along,” the captain all but pouted.

“Why, out of curiosity?” asked the punk lady of Mr. Rory.

“Kid, what do we call you?” Mr. Rory asked of the kid, seeming to ignore the lady’s question.

“My last name is Snart, but I go by Lenny.”

The punk lady gaped and turned to Mr. Rory. 

The captain spun on Mr. Rory. “No, no no no no no. Mr. Rory, out of the question. We’re returning him at once.”

“Aww, come on. What can it hurt if we return him in a week?”

“Ms. Lance, out of the question.”

“I like the idea,” said the one Mr. Rory had referred to as Haircut. 

“That’s Snart?” said the nice looking kid.

“I don’t believe it,” said the college professor. 

“So you guys already know me or something?” said the kid. 

“Yeah, you’re a hero in the future,” Mr. Rory said.

“Mr. Rory, are you entirely sure…?” started the professor.

The kid looked around at all the expressions: the captain’s ticked off one, the punk lady’s – Ms. Lance –, the kid’s, the professor’s, Haircut’s, and Mr. Rory’s one which involved arms across chest glaring out at everyone as though daring them to say anything.

“You’re pulling my leg,” he concluded. “There ain’t no way I’m gonna be a hero.”

Mr. Rory started, “This is a timeship. We know.”

The kid crossed his arms across his chest, mirroring Mr. Rory’s stance. “Yeah, I can tell a crock of bull when I hear it, Mr. Rory.”

Ms. Lance chuckled. The kid beamed at her. “See? Pretty Punk Lady agrees.” The professor and the nice looking kid were struggling to hide smirks. 

Mr. Rory took a step forward. The kid took a step back at the sudden seriousness on his face. Mr. Rory stopped and sighed. “Kid,” he said, voice full of softness. Lenny took a step forward. Mr. Rory put a hand on Lenny’s shoulder. “Your kid sister, she’s going to be a professional figure skater.”

“Olympics?” the kid brightened.

Mr. Rory shook his head. “Not Olympics. But pro.”

The kid grinned. “I knew she had it in her. Right now though, she’s still falling down in ice skates. Can’t quite figure out the boots yet.” 

Ms. Lance made a noise that sounded like an aww. Lenny turned to raise an eyebrow at her, and she stopped, though her eyes kept dancing in delight. He smiled at her.

“So can I stay?”

Ms. Lance, Mr. Rory, and Haircut nodded. Professor and the nice kid did not, but smiled. The captain crossed his arms across his chest and rolled his eyes.  
“Fine, but if this affects the timeline at all...”

“Your precious timeline can shove it, Captain,” Mr. Rory said. “Come on, kid. Let’s get you buckled in.”

“You still got seatbelts?” Lenny frowned then looked Mr. Rory up and down. “You wear a seatbelt?”

“Yes, and you had better wear one,” Rip said, “You won’t like the effects if you don’t.”

Mr. Rory sat and patted the seat next to him. The kid sat, and Mr. Rory indicated how to fasten oneself in. Lenny did, wiggling his feet just a little in a way that got everyone who noticed it to hide smiles. 

Then, he was clinging on for dear life and feeling sicker than he had ever felt, even while hungover after his father’s friends had decided it would be fun to get him drunk.


	2. Chapter 2

When the ship stopped, he glared at everyone and folded over on himself. “Welcome to 1914,” said Ms. Lance, who did not appear to feeling the ill effects, though Haircut and Professor were shaking their heads as though their ears were buzzing.

“Does it do that every time?” Lenny asked.

“The side effects of time travel can include temporary nausea, linguistic dysplasia, blindness, deafness,” the captain said.

“She seems fine,” he nodded at Ms. Lance.

“Those in the captain’s seat usually are.”

“Snart, just do what I do, which is sleep through it,” Mr. Rory said, stretching.

Lenny turned to him with an expression that read fondness and fake contempt. “Lucky. Bastard.”

Mr. Rory laughed. “Come on. Let’s go get what it is we’re here to get.”

\--

They did. Something involving a little egg or something that “shouldn’t have existed yet or at all.” Lenny was able to help by reaching into the device that Haircut was clearly fumbling with and switch something off, letting Mr. Lance take the device. “Thank, Snart,” Haircut said. “You’re a good man.” Lenny beamed.

\--

“It’s got what inside it?” Lenny gaped when he found out what the egg was.

“Dinosaur DNA. Like Jurassic Park,” Haircut answered.

“Like what?”

“Ha! I know a reference you don’t know.”

“Congrats, Haircut. You’re competing with a kid from 1987. Jurassic Park doesn’t come out till the mid-90s,” Mr. Rory said. “It’s got a lizard with dinosaur DNA in it. Probably very cute. Definitely shouldn’t be around in 1914.”

Lenny came forward to stare at the egg. “That is so cool.”

“What I’m wondering is how they even managed it in 1914,” the Professor said.

“I don’t want to know,” Haircut said.

“Either way they only had one,” the Captain said. “So we don’t need to worry about that happening again.”

Lenny reached out to poke it and pulled back, glancing at Mr. Rory, who was watching him and the egg at the same time. “Go on. Touch it.” 

Lenny did. “It’s warm.”

Mr. Rory nodded. “It’s on warm coals to keep it alive. Theoretically, if we keep it warm long enough, it will hatch.” 

“We should totally hatch it.”

Mr. Rory beamed at him. Lenny grinned back.

“Theoretically, it is possible that someone could have found something and injected it without knowing what,” Haircut said.

“Yes, theoretically, anything is possible. Theoretically, a room full of monkeys on typewriters for an infinite amount of time could write out the Complete Works of William Shakespeare,” the Professor responded.

Lenny turned to Mr. Rory. “Tell me the Improbability Drive exists.”

Mr. Rory laughed. “Don’t know. Why don’t we go check one day?”

Lenny’s eyes brightened. “Sure, Mr. Rory. You and me?”

Mr. Rory made an expression as though he’d been punched in the gut.

\--

Afterwards, he stuck his head into the room where Mr. Rory was tinkering with something with the coolest looking blowtorch Lenny had ever seen (not that he had actually seen that many, but this was right up there with Aliens Ripley-levels-up-in-badass cool). In between needing both hands, Mr. Rory was taking swigs from the alcohol bottle he had sitting there.

“Umm, Mr. Rory,” he said from the doorway.

Mr. Rory straightened and smiled at Lenny. “Yeah, Snart?” He grabbed the bottle and put it to his lips.

Lenny grinned at him, wondering whether he should first ask whether he could have a sip of the contents of the bottle or should first say what he had come here to say, regarding Mr. Rory’s name being the same as that kid he had befriended in juvie. Probably the latter should come first. “I remembered where I knew your name from.”

Mr. Rory froze, alcohol halfway to his mouth. “Did ya, Lenny?” It was said in his usual manner of speaking, but careful, as though weighing all his words.

Lenny tensed as well, worried as to what the effect of the question would be. “I… you had a relative who was in juvie with me. Went by the name of Mick.”

Mr. Rory nodded slowly, relaxing his muscles part way. “Yeah, I had a relative who was in juvie.”

Lenny blurted out. “Well, just so you know, your relative is really great.” It had not been what he had wanted to say, but he did not yet know how to say what he wanted to say.

Besides, Mr. Rory was smiling. “Thanks, Lenny.”

Lenny had five other things to ask, now that that was out of the way. Now if only he knew how to ask any of them. He knew he looked uncomfortable – heck, he had to catch himself to keep from scuffing his foot against the floor – and Mr. Rory noticed. “What’s up?” 

“Uh,” Lenny glanced down the hall. 

Mr. Rory sighed and indicated a box beside him. “Come sit. I don’t bite.” He grinned. “Much.”

Lenny laughed, heading over while coming up with the best order to ask the questions in. After he sat, he asked, “I was wondering if you could do my hair like yours.”

“What, you want a buzz cut?” Mr. Rory turned to him.

Lenny nodded. “I been thinking of getting one for a while, but my dad… he wouldn’t show me how if I asked, and I don’t wanna cut myself or anything.”

Mr. Rory started to nod, then seemed to think of something and frowned. “You sure it won’t get you in trouble?”

Lenny gave a shrug – he would and he knew it, but screw him, that buzz cut just looked awesome. Mr. Rory seemed to recognize what his single shoulder shrug meant, but still he explained. “Gonna get in trouble either way, and it looks really cool.”

Mick nodded and put down his tinkering. “Come with me to the bathroom, and I’ll give you a buzz.”

Lenny smiled and followed.

\--

They walked onto the bridge - it was called the bridge, Lenny couldn’t help grinning whenever he remembered that – and Haircut made a sound that sounded like he was blowing liquid through his nose followed by coughing fit. “Why did you?” He gestured at his own hair then at Lenny.

“Kid wanted it.” Lenny nodded.

“So you gave him a buzz cut?” Ray seemed aghast at the idea.

“And dressed him like you?” the captain said. Lenny crossed his arms across his chest and glowered at the captain.

Mr. Rory beamed at them both. “Snart wanted it,” he said with a tone of finality and sat in one of the chairs. 

Ms. Lance raised an eyebrow. “You’re enjoying this a little too much.”

“Yeah,” Mr. Rory nodded.

Ms. Lance walked over to Lenny. “You’re going to be one hell of a troublemaker one day, you know that?”

Lenny nodded. “That, I believe far more than that I’m supposed to be a hero.”

The captain sighed. “Surely someone better the Mr. Rory here would be better for your hero-worship?”

Lenny’s face went icy cold and calculating. Mr. Rory and Ms. Lance shared a glance. “What’s wrong with Mr. Rory, Captain?”

Haircut nodded at the kid and Mr. Rory got up. “Kid, Snart, I can defend myself.” 

The nice kid looked up. “Like you did before, Rory?”

“Before?” Lenny frowned at him. Mr. Rory frowned. The captain didn’t look much better.

“Never mind.”

“Jefferson, surely you can share what you meant,” said the professor.

Jefferson shook his head. “If neither Rory nor Rip remember, I think it would be best to let it pass.”

Lenny gave a nod as if he had noted something down in his mental to-do list.

Ray’s stomach rumbled. “And that’s our cue to eat,” Mr. Rory said, heading down the hall. “Come on, Snart.” 

He followed Mr. Rory out of the room.


	3. Chapter 3

They walked into the kitchen. It was clearly a kitchen, or at least a giant food pantry. Lenny looked around for a stove, an oven, a microwave, something. He did find a sink. “So where do you cook stuff?”

“In here,” Mr. Rory gestured at the little drawers. 

“In there? Like automats, where you put in money and open the door and it gives you hot food, like grilled cheese and chicken pot pie and pizza?” 

Mr. Rory smiled. “Those disappeared from Central and Keystone by my day.”

“What? They’re great. Why did they disappear?”

Mr. Rory shook his head. “I don’t know, but I remember them. They were great. Although you should eat your vegetables, too. They’re important.” 

Lenny shrugged his suggestion off. “How much do they cost? What type of currency is used? Is it still dollars?”

“Snart, it’s free. Gideon just makes it on the replicator.”

Lenny half thought he was joking at first and made to laugh it off. Then, he checked Mr. Rory’s face, and it dawned on him that the ship could literally make food, for free – like Star Trek, but real – so its occupants wouldn’t starve or need to worry about not having enough to eat. A desire burned itself into his mind to bring Lisa here and stay aboard forever and with this big guy who was Mick’s relative and with whom he felt a certain closeness – and whom he had started thinking of as Mick in his mind; he didn’t know how to tell Mr. Rory that, though he felt it should be mentioned – and where none of the crew seemed likely to get mad at him, caught in the back of his throat, and came out as a series of sobs and hiccups. 

“Snart!” Mr. Rory was by his side, hand hovering over his shoulder, just close enough that he could feel the warmth from it without being actual physical contact, which would probably make him flinch – how did Mr. Rory know this stuff? He should stop crying damnit. “Snart, are you okay? Talk to me, buddy.”

Lenny dragged a hand across his eyes. “I’m fine. I’m usually not such a crybaby. I just don’t know what came over me. I’m usually a more responsible person. It’s, just, if I could bring Lisa here for a day, then both of us could eat until we’re full and I wouldn’t have to worry about not having enough from my job down at the pizza joint down the street to feed me and her. I mean, she gets dibs, of course – she’s a baby – but it would be nice.” He wiped his hands across his face again, looked at the tears and then wrinkled his face. “I don’t mean to complain. Completely understand if you want to leave me behind now – I can hitch a ride back, won’t be on your conscience or anything – but I’m still more than willing to do whatever grunt work needs to be done.”

Mr. Rory knelt down in front of him and opened his arms up for Lenny to hug or lean against, thought better of it, and wrapped a hand around Lenny’s shoulders. “Hey, Lenny, it’s okay. It’s okay to cry. Lewis,” his face screwed up momentarily and then he added, “As Mick told me, is a pretty shitty dad.”

That shocked Lenny enough that he stopped sobbing. 

Haircut chose that moment to walk in. Mr. Rory’s expression made Lenny worried he was going to beat him up. “M- Mr. Rory, why is he crying? What the heck?”

Mr. Rory turned to him with a shrug of “really?” “Lewis is a shitty person and if I could I’d go light a fire under his ass and take both Lenny and Lisa aboard with us, I would in a second.”

“Well, that would mess with the…”

“Say ‘timeline’ and find out what happens, Haircut,” Mr. Rory said.

There was a half sniffle, half-chuckle from beside them. They both turned to find a sheepish looking Lenny trying to hide a smile. “You’re both funny.” His smile fell. “But, really, Lewis is not that bad. He keeps a roof over my head. I don’t gotta pay rent till I’m eighteen. And he only smacks me when I do something to deserve it.”

Haircut’s expression screwed up in horror. Mr. Rory nodded at him. 

“There is no excuse for hitting a child ever,” Haircut said.

Lenny looked horrified. “He doesn’t hit Lisa.”

“He was referring to you.”

Lenny raised an eyebrow at Haircut. “I ain’t a child. In any sense of the word other than legally. And legally doesn’t mean a whole hell of a lot in my neck of Central, not with dirty cops like my dad and with the Darbinians, that a mob family in case you didn’t know. Dad drops me off sometimes to play them at poker. I typically win, which is why they’re giving me lessons in Russian and Italian, mostly phrases that are useful when I screw up again on Dad and end up in prison, some flirting, gotten good at the flirting, was able to use it when Dad left me as a distraction with some prostitutes.”

Haircut turned to Mr. Rory. “I’ll help you light Lewis on fire.”

Lenny snapped at them, “Stop it! Haircut, you touch one hair on my father’s head, I will make you wish you’d never been born.”

Haircut looked dismayed. “Why does everyone call me, Haircut? And fine, I won’t touch a hair on your father’s head.”

Mr. Rory frowned at Lenny then shook himself and gestured at the wall, changing the subject. “You can get this thing to make you a bowl of Lucky Charms if you want them, fruit, eggs, a hamburger, chicken pad thai,” he thought about some of the things Snart later had a fondness for. “Actually, Gideon, do you still have a recipe on file to make frybread?”

Gideon announced, “Drawer 3A.” 

Mr. Rory found the drawer and pulled it out. “Here you go.” He handed the plate to Lenny. 

Lenny peered at it. “It looks like funnel cake.”

“Try it.” Mr. Rory beamed, pulling out a stool at the counter. Haircut’s expression softened as Lenny clambered onto it. Mr. Rory gestured at him that if he said anything, he would end him. Lenny ripped off a piece and put it in his mouth. His mouth formed a little o and his face looked like he’d seen nirvana. “Like it?” Lenny nodded. “Haircut, ask for some honey. Actually, Lenny, you try.”

“How?”

Haircut said, “Just say, “Gideon, could I get some honey?”

Gideon responded, “Drawer 6B.”

Haircut gestured, and Lenny pulled it out. Mr. Rory took it and squirted it onto the frybread. “Now take a bite.” 

Lenny made a sound. “Mr. Rory, Haircut, you have to try this.”

“You still haven’t answered me as to why you call me that,” Haircut said while ripping off a piece of the thing Mr. Rory had called frybread. 

Lenny nodded at Mr. Rory, “’Cause he called you that and ‘cause I haven’t heard you called anything else.” 

Haircut put the food in his mouth. It was good. “I’m Ray, Ray Palmer.”

“Mr. Palmer,” Lenny nodded.

“Dr. Palmer.”

“Just call him ‘Haircut.’ It’s easier.” Mr. Rory said.

“Rory, I’m going to calling you ‘Heatwave’ and ‘Arsonist’ if you keep that up,” Dr. Palmer seemed annoyed.

“You’re an arsonist too?” Lenny raised his eyebrow.

“Runs in families, kid.”

“There is nothing genetic about it,” Dr. Palmer replied.

Mr. Rory glared at him. “Doesn’t mean it doesn’t run in families with similar upbringings, Haircut.”

Lenny kept his eyebrow raised, but did not comment, and instead ripped off another piece of the food and ate it while studying their interaction, trying to decipher what they were saying with body language. Haircut followed Mr. Rory's eyes to him and then nodded. That was clear: whatever secret they were keeping, they were keeping it from him. More evidence that they did in fact know him. If Mick had told him about Lewis, it was theoretically possible that he and this man later hang out, further evidence for why Mr. Rory kept looking at him like he knew him. 

Mr. Rory glanced at the ceiling. “Gideon, get me a burger.”

“Drawer 5B, Mr. Rory.”

He pulled it out and sniffed it. “It has lettuce on it, Gideon.”

“You should be eating your greens, Mr. Rory, as I’m sure Ghost told you often.”

Dr. Palmer asked, “Ghost?” for clarification and looked at Lenny, who shrugged and shook his head. 

Mr. Rory grunted. “I do. Just not replicator greens. What are these made of, out of morbid curiosity?”

“Science discovered how to build protein and vitamins that look and feel real. They are already experimenting with it in 2016.” 

“That’s so cool,” Lenny said.

Dr. Palmer said, “You want to be a scientist?”

Mr. Rory raised an eyebrow at Dr. Palmer. Lenny shrugged. “Doesn’t that involve a lot of school? Where would I ever get that kind of money?”

Mr. Rory sighed. “Nothing’s to say you got to learn in school, Lenny. You want to learn something, go ahead. There’s the library that’s over on Edison and Lafayette.”

Dr. Palmer nodded. “There’s theoretically no reason he can’t learn skills here, as well.”

“From?”

“Gideon,” Mr. Rory nodded. “Kid, look up Houdini. You’ll like him.”

“Of all the things,” Dr. Palmer started.

Mr. Rory noticed Lenny had emptied his plate and was stifling a yawn. “Come on, Snart. I want to show you where you’ll be sleeping. There may not be days, but I bet it’s been over twenty-four hours since you last slept.”

Lenny nodded and followed him down the hall. Mr. Rory paused by a room, shook his head and continued to another one. “This is you.” He opened the door to a plain room with a gray mattress. “Temperature is controlled by Gideon, but if it’s too hot or cold, just yell at them. Also, just in case, Gideon has amazing medical technology and nice pain killers.”

“You’re confining me to quarters?”

“What? No, you aren’t confined here or anything. But you should get some sleep. Mattress is comfy.”

Lenny went over and tested it. “Okay, Mr. Rory. Goodnight.”


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Teenage Lenny has '80s era knowledge of HIV and asks Mick about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lenny's knowledge of HIV is worse than the typical late '80s knowledge, which was awful as was. They started teaching what HIV was and how to avoid it in 1987, but Missouri didn't teach it well (understatement of the year, still doesn't teach it effectively, HRSA and the CDC keep yelling at a lot of states to teach it better) and my headcanon is that Lenny didn't go back to school after he was in juvie, so his knowledge primarily comes from what he's been able to pick up from the other people in juvie either other kids and prison guards, his dad's comments (particularly after finding out about Mick), and the mobs (which again, is not much).

Lenny woke up a few hours later – noting that the temperature got warmer and it got lighter when he had rested enough, which was cool. He stuck his head into various rooms, before tipping his head to the ceiling and asking, “Gideon?”

“Yes, Mr. Snart?” came the response. He grinned.

“Gideon, where is Mr. Rory?”

“Mr. Rory is in the maintenance room.”

“Thank you, Gideon.”

He headed over and noted that Mr. Rory was the only one in the maintenance room, again tinkering with something. "Mr. Rory,” he said. Mr. Rory looked up and his expression softened. Lenny was really not sure what to do with the fact that the biggest, meanest looking guy on this ship looked at him like he was his best friend. Unless… well, he would think about that later. 

“You said that the ship has higher medical technology than we had in 1987."

Mick looked up, frowning. He tried to recall if there was any reason why fifteen year old Lenny would be asking that, but he couldn't think of any. "Yeah, why?"

Lenny looked at his feet. "And that includes detection and testing?"

"Uh huh." Mick prompted then took another drink of whatever Gideon saw fit to make him drink.

Lenny sighed looking back at him. "Well, umm, I'm worried I may have the gay cancer because Imayhavesleptwithyourcousininjuvie."

Mick spit the substance he had taken a swig of out in a spray. That statement was going under things he never expected to hear Len, even teenage Lenny, to say to him. Lenny took a step backwards. He grinned reassuringly at Lenny and shook his head. "You don't. HIV is a virus. And if you only slept with my cousin, you don't have it."

Lenny frowned. "Oh, so it's not a cancer and it's not set off by gay sex?"

Mick found himself experiencing déjà vu. He remembered asking the same thing of Len after they had met back up. "Nope."

Lenny nodded. "How does it spread then? I've been around people with it. If it spreads by physical contact… wait, is there a cure for it?"

Mick tried to remember what Len had told him and found a flood of memories - Len insisting he wear gloves, Len insisting he not do any injectable drugs or any drugs in general actually. "Only by blood, semen, and breast-milk."

Lenny sat down across from him. "Oh. Bet I look pretty foolish then. So is there a cure for it?” 

Mick frowned. “There will be a medicine.” He noted down that he would have to ask Gideon if they had a cure. For now, however, Mick looked back at Lenny, who was still fidgeting around like he did when he was uncomfortable. Mick knew from experience earned over thirty years that if he didn't ask, he would never hear why, but if he asked wrong, Lenny would just say there was nothing wrong.

"Something bugging you?"

"You aren't gonna get angry I slept with your relative?"

"Lenny, what about me says I haven't also had experiences with guys."

Lenny’s entire expression and posture brightened. "Oh. Oh. That’s cool." He grinned wickedly, the way he used to when he got an idea. "So you're not going to say anything when I say that I really like Mick and I'm going to find him and fuck him into the mattress as soon as I get back and he gets out."

Mick would have laughed, except that this was 16 year old him they were talking about. He had met that kid. That kid wasn’t anything anyone should make declarations like that about. Also, if he remembers correctly, he was pretty sure he did the fucking into the mattress. "Are you sure Mick won't be doing the fucking?"

Lenny blushed, and god Mick wondered how he had forgotten that smile and little chin duck that Lenny did whenever he blushed. Looking at it on the teenage Lenny’s face knocked the air out of him with a sledgehammer. "Maybe. I'll leave it up to him."

Mick wondered fleetingly if it was possible to go back and get his teenage self and offer him up to Lenny on a platter, but he knew he would remember something like that. “Listen, kid, if you want, I can bring you to Gideon and she can give you a check-up.”

Lenny nodded. “I’d like that.”

 

“Well, you don’t have HIV. AZT comes out in 1987, your year, I believe, which is a medicine. PrEP comes out in the early 2010s, which prevents it, so be careful until then. But no, you don’t have HIV. However, you do have borderline malnutrition and very low amounts of vitamins across the board,” the professor, who was in fact a professor, whose name was Stein and who was very nice, announced.

Lenny looked sideways. “Anything else, doc?”

“Even with Gideon feeding you the past couple of days, the fact that you’re still borderline malnourished -,“ Professor Stein started.

Mr. Rory grunted out. “I’m going to go back in time and kill Lewis.”

“No!” Lenny protested, putting a hand on Mr. Rory’s. “He keeps a roof over our heads, Lisa and me.” Mr. Rory looked at Lenny, who swallowed. “No. Please don’t.”

“Only ‘cause you said so,” Mr. Rory met Stein’s eyes. 

“Thank you,” Lenny said and got to his feet. “Thank you, Professor.”

Mr. Rory nodded at Stein and then nodded a come on gesture with his chin at Lenny and strode out of the room. Lenny followed.

“Where to now?” he said as he caught up.

“Bridge.”

“Cool,” he fell into step next to him. Mr. Rory noticed and grinned. “So I looked up the Houdini guy. I’d love to try a few of those tricks.”

“Only if you can get out of them.” Mr. Rory said.

“I also… do you think it would be possible for Gideon to teach me to make mac and cheese? I would like to learn so I can make some for Lisa.”

Mr. Rory’s face softened again. “Yeah, timeships have a mod for a stove, and Gideon can teach you to make mac and cheese.”


	5. Chapter 5

An alarm of some variety or other sounded off down the halls following all of them going to get some shut eye. Sara poked her head out of her room, blinking at it with an expression halfway between confusion and bitterness at the morning. Ray wasn’t much better, peering at the alarm in bemusement. Jax stuck his head out and stared up at the device on the wall. “Why is there an alarm going off? What have we done now?”

Rip strode down the hall, glanced at the device and glared. “Gideon, where is the fire? Where is Mr. Rory?”

“Mr. Rory is headed to the kitchen, which seems to have caught fire.”

“Seems to have?” Ray asked.

“The young Mr. Snart was learning to make mac and cheese,” Gideon answered.

Ray opened his mouth. Ray closed his mouth.

Rip asked, “Why was he trying to make mac and cheese? Couldn’t you make it for him?”

Gideon answered, “He did not want to eat it. He wanted to learn to make the dish for his sister.” 

Ray made a noise.

Rip tipped his head. “I’m sorry. How?”

“Mr. Rory and Mr. Snart appear to have found a module on the Waverider, which allows for a manual stove. I was able to modify it for Mr. Snart.”

Rip swore. “Why is it always those two?” 

Sara shrugged and followed him towards the kitchen. The others followed, followed by Stein, who had also come out of his room. They walked in to the kitchen to find Lenny back against the wall opposite what was indeed a stove in terror as Mick prodded a pot lid into the fire the size of the wall with a long spatula while holding a can of something with his other hand. 

“How?” Rip asked Lenny, who flinched back against the wall even further, holding his arms up between Rip and him and glancing between Rip and the wall of fire. Rip sighed and turned to Mick. “How?”

“I just added…” Lenny started explaining.

Mick grunted at it shoving the lid on the stove back over the burner and tossing some white powder out of the can he was holding onto it. “There was grease on it. Snart lit it right but the grease lit fire. Snart tried to pour water onto it. This happened.” He shoved the lid a little more. The fire started to subside. 

“Why was there grease on it?” Rip asked.

“Because no one cleaned it after we all had burgers in here.” Mick threw a little more powder onto it. “Calm down, you treacherous, beautiful thing, you. Ah, there we go,” he said to the fire as it subsided back to its original size. Mick reached out with his gloved hand and turned the knob off. 

Lenny peeled himself off the opposite wall. “Why did it do that?” 

“Because you don’t put water on a grease fire. Now let me see your hands.”

Lenny held them out warily, still giving the stove an expression like it could do that again. 

Mick squatted down and took Lenny’s hands in his, turned them over and prodded at place his wrists. “Ah. Good. No physical damage done. You alright, Snart?”

Lenny shrugged but left his hands in Mick’s. “A little scared, is all. The entire side of the room went up really fast.”

“Grease fires do that. But no damage done. And even if there was…” Mick shrugged. Lenny gave him a grateful smile.

“What was that white powder?” Sara asked.

Mick turned to look at the stove. “The future’s excuse for baking soda.”

“How?” Ray asked.

“How what?”

“How do you know what stops a grease fire?”

Mick raised both eyebrows at Ray and laughed, “Haircut, I'm a pyro. I learned a thing or two about fire over the years. Any other stupid questions?”

Rip sighed at them. “I think for the time being, we should assign both of you to a team to go get the things that shouldn’t exist in given times. Sara, you are team captain. Please try not to light my ship on fire. Or start a bar fight. Or attract any bounty hunters that may still be out there. Or nuclear explosions. Or… I don’t know, whatever else it is you do. Gideon, please clean this up.”

“Sure thing, Time Dad,” Lenny responded.

Rip glared at him. Sara had to hide a chuckle. Mick glanced at Lenny, saw he was grinning, and smirked at Rip. 

\--

Mick was sitting on a maintenance box when Sara came around the corner. “Where is Lenny?” she said.

Mick shrugged. “Said he needed a few minutes. Forgot something in his room.”

Sara looked around. “Did he say what?” 

Mick frowned. “Point. He just said something, not what.”

“And you didn’t ask?”

“Nope.”

A side panel shot off the wall followed by Lenny climbing out of the air-duct behind it. Sara stared. “Why?” she asked.

Lenny shrugged. “Wanted to make sure I knew the layout, just in case I need it.”

“When would you need it?” Mick bent to pick up the panel.

Lenny held out his hand for it. “Dunno. But it could be useful one day. I got maybe two thirds of it memorized.”

Mick stared and handed back the panel. “A kind of plan B thing?”

Lenny grinned at him. “Yeah, or just in case anyone chases us onto here, and we should have to escape or anything. Or, I don’t know, in case the captain should not listen when things aren’t going his way. He might either give one of us up to whoever it is or decide to keep ramming against something and put the rest of us in danger.”

Sara and Mick turned to him. “You’ve already reached this conclusion?” Sara asked, wondering how young he had learned to be that suspicious.

Lenny flushed and ducked his chin, looking guilty. “I know. It’s not very nice of me, and he’d probably never do something like that. But, just on the off chance something happens and puts pressure onto him, I’d rather be safe than sorry, and I totally don’t mind giving one of you the credit for saving our butts if it comes to that.”

Mick put a hand on Lenny’s shoulder and nodded at him. “Snart, you have good instincts. Never stop making back up plans. They will save your life one day.” Sara glanced at Mick, nodding when he smiled at Lenny, who smiled back. She would have to ask Mick later if he had a plan - were the things he was telling Lenny designed to, well, to get Leonard back. “Let’s get on the jumpship. You’ll love it,” Mick said.

 

They filed onto the ship, small thing that it was. Lenny noted that Mr. Rory’s head nearly hit the ceiling. 

"So this is the jumpship, huh?" He ran a hand over the seats and walls. Thinner than the walls on the Waverider, no ducts or anything.

"Yes, it is," Mr. Rory said. 

"And we're gonna go steal this thing-."

"Time machine, yes. No one should have those yet." Mr. Rory met Ms. Lance’s eyes. “Although it would be an excellent way to steal things, provided history wouldn’t miss them.”

Ms. Lance raised her eyebrows at him. “Are you giving him advice on stealing things?”

Mr. Rory smirked at her. 

Lenny said, “Moot point. I ain’t got a time machine.”

Ms. Lance turned to Mr. Rory. “You’d better not tell him where you left it.”

“Where you left what?” Lenny said.

“He has a timeship of his own,” Ms. Lance said.

Lenny raised an eyebrow. “How’d you get that? Were you a time captain too?”

Mr. Rory had an expression of pain cross his face. “I was a bounty hunter.”

Lenny grinned at hearing that and said the first thing that came to mind, “That is freaking awesome.” Then he realized Mr. Rory’s expression probably meant it was a painful time in his life and winced. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-.”

“Kid, Snart, it’s okay.” 

Lenny studied his face. A whole range of emotion was crossing his features. This was more serious than just him saying a remark was okay. “That person you said I reminded you of,” Mr. Rory made a sound in response. Lenny had guessed correctly. “What happened between the two of you?” 

Mr. Rory did not answer, other than to shake his head a little. Ms. Lance looked between them. “I hate to interrupt, but maybe you should continue this discussion later, after preventing whoever has the time machine form using it?” 

Mr. Rory took a step back, and nodded. “Good idea. Afterwards, I’ll tell you about him.”

Ms. Lance glanced at him. He gazed back. She nodded. Lenny studied the two of them, noting down the interchange in his mental notebook.

"Could I drive?" he said to change the topic to a lighter one. That usually worked. And Mr. Rory would tell him about it later.

"You can't drive." Mr. Rory said in such a short amount of time Lenny wondered if he had even heard the words.

Ms. Lance glanced at Mr. Rory. "Why not? You aren't actually turning into a stickler for rules?"

"Nope, but Lenny can't drive."

Lenny put his arms across his chest. "That's why I wanna learn."

"Let him drive."

"You're going to regret everything," Mr. Rory informed Ms. Lance.

"Yeah?" she responded.

"Okay. Fine. Lenny, take the driver's seat." Lenny slid into the seat, grinning from ear to ear. "Fuck, I'm going to regret everything." Mr. Rory sat down in one of passenger seat, pulled the seatbelt down, and seemed to be looking for more things to fasten around him.

"Everyone ready?"

"No."

Ms. Lance gave him a "what is your problem" look. To Lenny, she instructed, "Take your time, Lenny. It's okay to stall."

Mr. Rory shook his head, putting both hands on the seatbelt. "That's not the problem." 

Lenny said into the com. "We are ready for takeoff."

Mr. Rory took one hand off the seatbelt and gestured, "Hit that button there." Lenny did. The jumpship unhooked. 

"Little bit of gas," Ms. Lance instructed.

"Don't worry. I got the hang of this," Lenny said.

He pushed the gas all the way forward while dragging the break all the way back. The jumpship sped up fast enough to make Ms. Lance grab ahold of the seatbelt. 

"Woohoo!" Lenny cried out as the jumpship plummet to where they needed it to go. 

“Fuck my life!” Mr. Rory shouted. “Snart, fuck you and your goddamn sense of humor!”

"Leonard! Leonard! The ground!" Ms. Lance cried out.

"I know. I can see it."

"She's saying avoid it, you little shit," Mr. Rory said.

"I said, I got it," Lenny said. 

Mr. Rory was watching how close they were getting. "Alright, Snart, give me the wheel."

Lenny pulled back on the gas at the last possible minute, hovered them there for a few moments, and then set them down so gently that a tea set wouldn't spill. Lenny unfastened his seatbelt and got up, making sure the invisibility button was on as he did.

He turned to them, giant grin on his face. "See. Told ya I knew how to drive." 

Ms. Lance stared at him in horror. 

Mr. Rory concluded, "And tricks like that are why you're never driving anything bigger than a motorcycle again. Get Mick to drive your sister to school. I’m not kidding. If he doesn’t have his license, get him to get it. He’ll understand."

\--

Mr. Rory went up behind the scientist with the time machine and pulled his heat gun. “Step away from the time machine now.”

The scientist backed up, looking at the gun. “Are you here to take it from me?”

Mr. Rory took another step forward. “Yes.”

Lenny put a hand on Mr. Rory’s. “Listen, sir, we’re still dealing with the paradox issues that stuff like this time machine cause. Best not to have it until more work is done. You can publish your work, just no time machine itself. And then you gotta deal with too many time travelers in one place all messing with each other. And it just gets messy. So it’s best to step away from the machine and let the time cops have it. And we’ll have to catch you if you try to run, which won’t be pleasant for you, and it won’t be pleasant for us. So just put your hands on your head and let us have the time machine.”

\--

“I can’t believe that worked,” Sara said when they got back to the jumpship.

“Law abiding scientist time traveller,” Mick smirked.

“Law abiding scientist. Sounds like an oxymoron. Oh no, wait, I’ve met Dr. Palmer.” 

Sara snickered. Lenny grinned at her. “You’ve seen more of him. Have you seen what I mean?”

Mick nodded. “He was a boy scout apparently. Went through and got his Eagle Badge, whatever that means.”

Lenny stared as though he was being told unicorns existed. “I’ve never met anyone who actually was a boy scout.”

Sara stared at him. “Never?”

Lenny shrugged. “It’s one of those things you don’t see in my part of Central, but theoretically exist somewhere out there. Like clean cops.” 

Sara protested, “My dad’s a cop. A good one.”

“Then you ain’t from Central. My dad used to be a cop. They took his badge when the Darbinians revealed themselves to be utter assholes and felt he should take the fall, but he’s still got a copy of his badge, and the cops all turn a blind eye to him pulling tricks like that one I just pulled.”

“Elsewhere, they are clean,” Sara said.

Lenny frowned sadly. “Well, you can’t win them all.” He turned to look at the time machine. “But this one? We won fair and square. I call dibs, and I’m naming her the Jules Verne.”

Sara turned to Mick so quickly her neck hurt, wondering if it was part of Mick’s plan, if he had one. “Why don’t you leave it on the Waverider.”

Lenny nodded. “So I can come around and claim it later if I need it?” 

Sara nodded, trying not to exhale too brokenly. Lenny turned to her and studied her expression. His eyebrows creased. She wondered what he saw and tried to make her expression show nothing. He turned to Mick and tipped his head. Sara turned to Mick and found his expression unreadable. She wondered if Lenny, at this age, was able to read anything more. He gave his head a shake and turned to them. “Well, shall we go out for celebratory drinks?” He pulled out a wallet. “Drinks on me?”


	6. Chapter 6

Lenny had a mental checklist that he had been putting the growing number of questions he had on. Now that he had a down moment, it was time to get a few of them answered. He found his way to the sweet college kid’s room. “Mr. Jackson?” 

“Snart, call me Jax.”

Lenny nodded. “Jax, I was wondering if you could tell me what you were talking about earlier about Mr. Rory, when he said he could defend himself.”

Jax nodded, looked at the floor, resigned, and straightened up – he had been expecting to explain this to someone. He looked back at Lenny, did a double-take and shook his head. “Yeah, the ship got taken by time pirates and we were put in the brig, Rip, Rory and me. Rip insulted Rory, and kept insulting him, told him he wasn’t actually wanted on the ship, that he was only recruited because…” Jax gave a shrug at Lenny. “Then he might have said that a serial arsonist - and Rory is one, don’t get me wrong, but he’s so much more than that - wasn’t who he wanted aboard and, well, he said Rory had the IQ of meat. And between that and the fight he was having with… well, with his partner in crime, he made an agreement with the time pirates to hand over the Waverider provided he could go back to 2016 with his partner. And well, Rip and his partner did try to leave Rory for dead immediately after. And you’re doing murder eye at me.”

Lenny was glaring murder, but not at Jax. As soon as Jax took a break, he said, “He said that to Mr. Rory?” Jax winced. “I’d nail him to the wall if he even said that about my friend.” 

Jax’s eyes widened a little and he straightened in his seat. Lenny realized that Mr. Rory had probably not told anyone about his relative, particularly if he was a distant relative, if – Lenny shook his head: better not to think such things; suffice to say that Mr. Rory had never told anyone, except maybe that partner in crime of his – and explained, “I got a friend who’s a pyro, too, Mr. Rory’s relative actually,” he paused, laughing at the realization that he was hoping he and Mick would one day have a partner-in-crime relationship just like Mick’s relative and the man Jax had said was Mr. Rory’s partner, when Mr. Rory had said Lenny reminded him of his partner, and when Mr. Rory reminded him of various things Mick did (best not to look too hard at the other possibility). 

Jax made a pained expression, so Lenny continued, “Acts like a stupid dumbass, really awesome at shooting the breeze with people, finding out shit, making great deals, okay, maybe not great but better than otherwise. He got me into his room with him instead of the room with the kids that beat me up. He got me in to play cards with the guards, and I beat them so bad they owed me favors entire time I was in there, ‘cause nobody wanted to admit they lost to a snot-nosed punk like me.” Jax was wincing even more.

Lenny decided to reserve questions on that expression until later. “But, as for our Captain, he said that to Mr. Rory’s face? And no one’s beat the crap out of him yet?”

“No, and you aren’t going to,” Jax said.

“Why didn’t his partner?”

Jax shook his head. “Snart,” he shrugged, “his partner never found out.”

Lenny considered. Between the tense he had used, and everyone’s expressions of pain and how Mr. Rory had said he reminded him of his partner, he had an idea what had happened to Mr. Rory’s partner in crime. His chest began to burn as though he had been dunked in ice. He chose to ignore it until after the conversation. “How recently’d he die, his partner?” he asked.

Jax jumped. “I don’t know if... Time doesn’t really move-.”

Lenny interrupted, “How’d he die?”

Jax closed his eyes. “He sacrificed himself so we could save the earth and also saved all our lives in the process. From a thing called the Oculus. Don’t ask me to explain.”

Lenny nodded. “And that’s how he became a hero?”

Jax glanced at him, then away again and gave a nod. “Yeah.”

“Thanks for telling me.”

\--

He walked onto the bridge and saw that thankfully, the area by the big windows was empty. He walked over to the one with the ledge in front of it, sat and pulled his legs up in front of him to gaze out the window, making his mind a deliberate blank and just watching the timestream outside, letting out the icy feeling growing in his chest.

“Lenny, what’s wrong?” Lenny turned to see Ms. Lance approaching. 

He smiled at her. “Teenage introspection.”

She raised an eyebrow at him. 

He wrinkled his nose. “Not very convincing, was it?”

“No,” she agreed. She got to the ledge and sat beside him.

He nodded at the timestream. “What happens if someone dies out here?” 

She turned to stare at him. “Why?”

“Stuff that got mentioned. Mr. Rory’s partner in crime, he died, didn’t he? Recently too by the sounds of it.”

She nodded. “Very recently.” She thought of his initial question. “There wasn’t a body, or we would have taken him home to his sister.”

He tipped his head, making his eyes unreadable. Offhand, however, he supposed that if his suspicions were correct, of course Mr. Rory’s dead partner would have a sister. “He had a sister?”

She surveyed him with closer scrutiny than before. He made himself smile as though it was purely academic interest. He must have been fairly convincing because she nodded.

He ventured to ask another question, “Does she know what happened to him?”

She frowned and glanced at the hallway where Mr. Rory’s room was. “I don’t know, but I think Mr. Rory told her.” He let out a sigh of relief. 

“Is there any way of getting him back? This is a time ship after all.”

She shook her head then shot him an inquisitive frown. “Why are you so interested?” 

He glanced at her, and saw the suspicion. He decided that between an expression of pure academic interest and somewhere a little closer to the truth, somewhere a little closer to the truth would convince her more. He knew that even if he had wanted to tell the whole truth, he couldn’t yet voice it. “Mr. Rory reminds me of someone I hope will be a very good friend one day. Also, I want to do something nice for him.” He closed his eyes and opened them again in her direction. “Now are you absolutely sure that I can’t fix it for him?”

She met his eyes and took a deep breath. “I would love you to fix it for him.”

“Tell me everything that could possibly be helpful.”

“You don’t want to do this. It will take longer than a week, and Gideon and Rip will require you to take an amnesia pill when you get off the Waverider. We gave one to my dad when he came aboard and to a lot of other individuals.” He tipped his head. “Long story.”

“So I’ll forget everything,” he concluded. 

She nodded. 

He ventured again, “So why not put a plan into motion that will fix it? Because I already thought of a way, but it will screw me up for life, I know it will, and I don’t think I can do this while that messed up.”

“How?” Her voice was concerned.

“Fake take it. And continue working on a fix for Mr. Rory’s dead partner from 1987.”

She made an expression of horror. “You do not want to do that.”

He wrinkled his nose at her and gave a wry smile. “Figured as much. Unfortunately, the other one will mess with the timeline, me staying here too long.” He considered. “Amnesia pill though. Does it only remove a certain amount of time?”

She nodded. 

“But how does it know how much time to delete?”

She shook her head. “I think Rip has multiple levels of them. There’s one level for a day, another for a week that kind of thing.”

“And does Gideon make them?”

Her eyes widened in surprise. “I never really thought about it.”

“Is there a way to reverse it?” he asked.

She blinked at him. “I don’t know. We could ask Gideon. But how will that be any better than not taking it?”

“I… I don’t know yet.” Lenny shook his head. “But Ms. Lance, I’ll think about it. I’ll come up with something.” He pushed himself up and nodded at her. “I know I can save Mr. Rory’s partner’s life. And I will.”


	7. Chapter 7

They were again called out on a job. Something involving a nuke with the capability of some figure that he guessed was astronomical. Professor Stein was making a concerned expression with his eyes slightly too wide. 

Lenny sidled over to him. “Hey, you okay, Doc?”

“The nuke has an equivalent amount of power to three Chernobyls.”

Lenny’s eyes went wide in was way he strongly suspected mirrored Stein’s. “Does it?”

“Dr. Palmer is going to make it so it doesn’t go off then Jefferson and I will get rid of it.”

“How will Dr. Palmer make sure it doesn’t go off?”

“Watch.”

Lenny turned to Palmer. “He’s wearing a dorky suit. It looks vaguely mecha actually, like from those tv shows where the robots beat each other up, or like a demented Terminator.” Professor Stein chuckled. Lenny smirked at him. “But does it have a built in nuclear shield?”

“No, which is why it is of utmost importance that he get in and out quickly.”

“In?” Lenny asked for clarification.

Professor Stein nodded.

Palmer fiddled with something on his arm and then was just not there anymore. Lenny jumped back. “Where’d he go?”

“Do you see that little buzzing thing?” Professor Stein gestured. Lenny followed his gesture and saw it: a thing that looked a little like a miniature of the suit that Palmer was wearing.

He turned to Professor Stein. “That little action figure is the Dr. Palmer-sized Barney-went-Terminator suit? You have to be pulling my leg on this one.”

Professor Stein nodded, trying not to chuckle. “Dr. Palmer is brilliant and invented a way to change the amount of space atoms and molecules take up.”

He looked back out and saw the little thing fly. “That is freaking awesome.”

The tiny action figure went into the nuke and then came back out a tense five minutes later and grew back to regular size Dr. Palmer. “Alright, your turn, Stein, Jax.”

Lenny jumped back with a swear on his lips when they clasped hands and became a single person on fire. Palmer put a hand on his shoulder. “What is that?” He wiggled his hands in their general direction.

“There are metahumans in the future of Central.” Palmer said by way of explanation. 

Lenny gestured out at them again – they had picked up the nuke and were now flying it off somewhere. “But they just… okay, what are metahumans? Maybe that will explain what I just saw.” 

Palmer tipped his head. “Uh.”

Mr. Rory stepped in, “The lab that made my gun also made an explosion that made people a little weirder than normal for Central. There’s a guy that can control weather, who’s a dick by the way; a girl who can teleport; a superhero kid who can move faster than sound, and another asshole speedster who went around murdering people till he opened a portal to another world and vanished off the face of the earth.”

Lenny tipped his head, blinking.

“How do you know that?” Palmer asked.

“Use your brain, Haircut. I use to live in Central, and my partner and I kept an ear out for unusual happenings. Also, my partner saved a couple of them from solitary in that lab, and possibly in an offshore island prison, and they owed him a big one. I’ve been in solitary. It isn’t fun. And offshore island prison. Because what could possibly go wrong there.”

Palmer made an interesting expression that Lenny’s brain put aside as just having realized something. Lenny would deal with that later. For now, he was still blinking at what Mr. Rory had said. “What?” he said finally, shaking his head, and turned towards Palmer to see if Mr. Rory was kidding or not. 

Mr. Rory turned to him. “Do what I always do and don’t think about it too hard.”

Lenny gave him two slow thumbs up. “I’ll deal with that when it happens.”

The man on fire landed and split up into Jax and Professor Stein. “The nuke has been taken care of.”

“Great, let’s go see how Pretty Bird and the Captain are doing.”

\--

He went down to where he had put the things: the egg with the dinosaur DNA in it – he’d looked up DNA, fascinating stuff – which was being kept warm in a blanket over what Mr. Rory had called coals but which were more like electric lights that heated but didn’t burn, and that lit up even brighter when someone touched them, and the Jules Verne – his little time machine. He stopped, picked up the time machine. There had to be a way to use that. But that still left a way for Mr. Rory’s partner to remember it in the future. 

“Gideon,” he said.

“Yes, Mr. Snart?” Gideon responded. He smiled. In the future he hoped he would still like her – them, how did one refer to an AI? He noticed he was having difficulty getting breath and that his heart rate had sped up, and realized the mistake he had made. Best to keep thinking of Mr. Rory’s future partner as a different individual; plan like it was a job, admittedly with a human target instead of a jewel or cash, but still just a job, not like it was anything personal. He took a few deep breaths and felt his heart rate start to drop back down to normal level.

He leaned back with a sigh. “Is there any way to reverse the amnesia pills?”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Snart, but there isn’t.” Gideon sounded apologetic. “The time masters would not allow such a thing to exist. Should it fall into the hands of someone they planned to memory wipe, the effects could be devastating. Therefore, they deliberately found something irreversible for their amnesia pills.” 

He leaned forward, steepling his fingers. “How do they work? Are the memories still there? Could there be a way to regain them?”

“They make the brain unable to get to the memories. There can be no recovering them.” 

Lenny sighed. “Do you make them?”

“Yes.”

“Are they difficult to make?”

Gideon sounded amused but touched that someone was concerned with how much effort it took. “No, if I have the recipe, they are not difficult to produce.”

“Is there anything you could make that could mimic the effects that would have a reversible pill instead?”

“Yes, Mr. Snart. I take it you want one and the antidote as well?”

“Gideon, could I ask you to produce it instead of the other one, and give me the formula for the antidote?”

“Of course. However, I do not know what good it will do.”

“It will. Oh and Gideon? Where would be a good place to test a little time machine?”

“I believe I know just the place, Mr. Snart.”

He picked up the time machine, reasonably light, foot diameter thing that it was. “Thank you, Gideon. I also need all the data on what killed Mr. Rory’s partner in the future.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Snart. That information is off limits to you.” Gideon sounded truly apologetic. The information they were delivering however put a dent in his plans.

“To me in specific?” he asked for clarification.

“Yes, Mr. Snart.”

He considered. “By whom?”

“The agreement of Mr. Rory and Captain Hunter.”

“Give me as much information as you know.”

\--  
“Dr. Palmer.” Lenny stuck his head into Dr. Palmer’s room.

“Snart,” Palmer looked up from whatever it was he was eating.

“How good are you with hacking?”

Palmer made a pained expression. “Why do you need to hack something? What do you need hacked?” 

“Gideon says that information on the Oculus has been locked. I am wondering if you have access or can get access.”

“How did you find out about the Oculus?” Palmer looked at the door, probably wondering if he should raise an alarm or tell someone.

Lenny gestured for him to sit, that there was no need to tell. “I asked how much information Gideon could give me. Told me very little. Gave me the name of what kills Mr. Rory’s partner. Said it was a slide projector for history.”

Palmer sat and nodded. “They were using it to manipulate the timeline to their advantage.” 

“Could you pull up all the information on it?”

“Why would you want to know all the information on it?”

“Let’s just say I have plans.”

Palmer turned to survey him. “Has anyone ever told you-?”

Lenny interrupted him before he could get any further. “Chances are, whatever you’re gonna say, it’s already been said to me about a million times.”

Palmer gave a disappointed look.

“You know you make that expression too much, your face’ll freeze like that.”

Palmer tipped his head sideways and opened his mouth to protest, then shook his head. 

Lenny sat down across from Palmer and met his eyes. “Now, tell me about it. I need to know if I’m gonna save Mr. Rory’s partner.”

Palmer glanced both ways. “Okay, Snart, I’ll break into the file for you.”

Lenny inclined his head and smiled at him. “Let me know if you need help breaking into it or anything.”

Palmer opened his mouth and shook his head again. “Gideon, I need all the information you have that could be helpful in destroying the Oculus.”

“Gladly, Dr. Palmer.”

\--

He placed the Jules Verne down on the floor of the room Gideon had said was good to test a little time machine in. Not a room he’d been in before, and judging by the lighting and industrial walling, not a room people were in a lot. “This place is safe?” he asked.

“Yes, Mr. Snart.”

“And you said it was a good place to test a time machine.”

“Yes, Mr. Snart. If you hook the time machine into the machine in the middle of the room, it will show you the effects that it would have.”

Something about the way Gideon had said that made Lenny pause and think back over the AI’s words. “Just the machine right? Not on the timestream?”

“When the Oculus was still present, that machine could tell the effects that an action in time would have on the timestream, with the right settings. Now that the Oculus is gone, however, it can no longer be used for that,” Gideon informed him.

He thought about that. “Could Captain Hunter tell what effect various actions of his would have?”

“As much as was allowed. The time masters blocked him from seeing the full effects, and they wanted him to take certain actions.” 

He sat back, taking in the information. “But now they are gone?” he asked to confirm.

“Yes. And now the machine no longer has access to that information.” 

He nodded, storing that away. “Tell Mr. Rory’s partner that after I save him?”

“Yes, Mr. Snart.”

He approached the machine. “So I can use this to test it without the time machine without actually going back or forward in time?”

“Yes. That is the intention.”

“Okay. What do I do?”

Gideon gave him instructions for how to hook it up – like a car battery’s jump cables, he found – and attached the cords to the Jules Verne. The larger machine hummed to life. Lenny backed up, taking a deep breath. “Gideon?” he asked.

“I’m still here, Mr. Snart.”

He nodded, going forward to take another look at the time machine. There were several dials and a few buttons. “So if I press a button on this, the big machine will tell me what it would have done.”

“Yes.”

He rotated the dial and pressed the button on the front. The read out informed him that it would take him back a week. 

He rotates another dial. The read out informed him that it would take him back a year. He felt a pain in his arm that he had accepted as constant disappear and stopped, stepping away from the time machine in horror. “Gideon, you said that this wouldn’t affect anything. That it would only show me what it would do. But there’s a bruise that is gone. Am I now in the body of a fourteen year old?”

“It is showing you what it will do.” 

He still walked over to the wall opposite it and sat down against it, gazing at the time machine. He could play with his own age, with his bruises, with his scars. 

An idea occurred to him. “Gideon, could you bring a mirror?” A mirror appeared.

He rotated the first dial forward, the second dial forward a little more. “Can it tell me what it will do before I push the button on it?” Gideon told him how to adjust the big machine. The read out informed him that that would move forward twenty years time. He took a deep breath and hit the button. 

The first thing he noticed was that his arms and legs were longer, his chest broader, his fingers more callused. He looked down at his sweatshirt, shirt and pants and noted that they were more or less the same as they had been, just bigger, so no way to tell if future him would be wearing this or not. The second thing he noticed was that he hurt; just everything hurt. He cracked his back and stood in a way that seemed to settle most of it. So dull aches were something he had to look forward too. 

Something tugged in his arm as well. He took off his sweatshirt and pushed up his sleeves to get a closer look and saw that he must have had a pin in his arm at one point, like one of the juvie kids had when he got his cast off following a broken leg. So clearly, he had broken his arm at some point. He also noted that he had a few tattoos on his arms. He studied one of them: very nice. He complimented his future self on his taste. He put on the shirt again, straightened his arms in another attempt to get his shoulders and back to stop protesting, and remembered what Mr. Rory had said about his room that first day – Gideon makes good painkillers. “Gideon, could I get some painkillers? Of the type Mr. Rory's partner took.”

“Yes, Mr. Snart.”

They appeared. He went over to look at them. "What are they? They're not addictive, are they?"

"No. They are over-the-counter ibuprofen."

He downed them without water and the pain in his back started to subside. He pushed up his sleeves to get another look at one of the other tattoos again, on the inside of his right forearm, two names and a number. “Do you happen to know what this stands for?”

“I believe it is from a tv show you like when it comes on. According to police records, you got it when you and Mick were at a convention as the main characters from it. You got very drunk, got the tattoo, and then got into a bar fight.”

Lenny laughed. “Okay. That sounds like me and Mick.” He reached back over and turned the dials again to restore his fifteen year old self. He looked down. No more tattoos. He would have to remedy that as soon as he got back. 

He reached out to the third dial, the one with the little lever beneath it and turned it. Nothing happened. He looked at the machine. The clock on it had all but stopped. He glanced back at the time machine, which continued to tick on as normal. “Gideon, what’s it doing?”

A low voice droned out, “It. Appears. To. Have. Manipulated. The. Time. Around. It.” 

Lenny moved forward and turned the dial back. “Gideon?”

“It appears to have manipulated time around it. The time around the time machine was considerably slower than the time around it.”

“How much slower?”

Gideon gave him a rate. 

“Let me try that again.” He did and turned the dial higher and watched as the machine and the time machines clocks fell further apart. Then, finally, the machine’s seconds seemed to take a minute each. He turned it off.   
“Gideon, how fast would you say the Oculus exploded? Would that be enough time for Mr. Rory’s partner to get clear of it if he had this on him?”

“I believe it would.” 

He sat there and tested it until he got hungry for dinner.

\--

After dinner, and after the team had mostly called it a night, he asked Gideon, “Gideon, are there any time anomalies in Central at any point before 1970? Could you find one and put it on the console tomorrow?”


	8. Chapter 8

Lenny walked onto the bridge to find Mr. Rory and their Captain glaring at each other. The captain had his hands wrapped through the front of Mr. Rory’s jacket and looked about to hit him.

“If you even had one iota of brains, you would know that that plan will not work, Mr. Rory. But as it is, I have to deal with your idiocy and insubordination, on top of trying to think up a better plan. I have had it up to here with this nonsense with you and Snart. As it is, I have half a mind to put you in the brig and return him to his time.” 

Mr. Rory threw his hands off his jacket. Rip grabbed at his gun and did something with his other hand. Lenny did not wait to find out what instead throwing himself between Rip and Mr. Rory, glaring up at the captain with one arm in front of him to protect himself and the other pushing the gun out of the way. The captain seemed surprised and let Lenny uncurl his fingers from his gun. “Rip Hunter. If you ever say anything like that or try to attack someone I care about again, I will end you. Do I make my point clear?”

“I did not attack Mr. Rory.”

Lenny gave his shoulders a shrug. “You had your hands wound through Mr. Rory’s jacket and looked ready to shoot him.” Lenny let go of the gun as Rip returned it to its holster. “Now, you can hit me if you want, but do not insult Mr. Rory again.”

“Lenny. He can’t hit you if he wants. I’ll shoot him if he does.” Mr. Rory reached for him.

“I will not hit you,” Rip protested.

Lenny shrugged him away. “I want your word you won’t insult him again. Not like that, not like the time before either.”

“You don’t have my word. But I will not hit you.”

“What time before?” Mr. Rory asked.

“When he told you you had the IQ of meat.” 

“Ah,” Mr. Rory turned to Rip. “You’ve been talking to Jax?”

“Yes, and he said that when you were captured by time pirates ‘cause our captain’s even worse at knowing when a situation’s clearly bait than my father.” Rip gaped. Lenny tipped his head at him and continued, “That he said some not so nice things to you, that your partner in crime and you were having a fight, and that that was why you wanted off the ship and tried to make a deal with them to go to 2016.”

Mr. Rory nodded. “I did that. I completely understand if you now have regrets about trusting me.” 

Lenny shook his head. “Of course not. You wanted to go back with your partner to 2016 where this asshole wasn’t. But he’d gotten under your partner’s skin with a job, right?”

Rip turned to him. “I didn’t get under anyone skin. It was a completely voluntary on… his partner’s part. And he wanted to participate.”

Lenny nodded. “I know enough about me to know that the way to get under my skin is praise and a job that requires my unique skillset.” Rip winced and began to look guilty a second later. “Ah hah. No, it’s fair. I understand it. And judging by the fact that Mr. Rory here thought I was enough like his partner to start treating me the way Mick did when we was in juvie, I’d say that was the way to get under his partner’s skin too. So, pretend I am his partner for a second-“

“Lenny, it was completely voluntary on my partner’s and my part. We wanted to go through time and steal stuff.” 

“And then the captain found ways of getting his hooks into both of you and used it.”

Mr. Rory put a hand on Lenny’s shoulder. “Lenny, you don’t have to do this. I am forty-five years old. I can defend myself.”

“Shut up. I know you can, but if you’re anything like my Mick, your sixteen year old relative, you don’t.” He turned back to Rip. “So pretending I’m his partner for just a second, promise me that you will not insult him again. I need you to. His partner may not have thought you were amoral enough to need you to make this promise. But I made each and every guard in our juvie hall make it for Mick, even the nice ones, and I will make you make it.”

Rip turned to him with a sigh and then up to Mr. Rory. “What is with you two and your dysfunctional-?”

“Promise me. Right now. Or so help me, I am going back in time and messing with the timeline. I can, based purely on what I now know and there is nothing you can do to stop me. So smack me as much as you want, yell at me, sweet talk me, praise me, put me right into the role of pickpocket and planner for your team; totally don’t think of the fact that Mr. Rory is still mourning for the individual who did that before. Just promise me that you will not threaten him, or insult him, or call him a monster, or call him useless, or say he’s no good for anything.”

Rip took a look from Lenny to Mr. Rory and back and nodded. “Fine, Mr. Snart, I promise I will not insult him again or threaten him.”

Lenny sighed. “Thank you. Now, what was it you were arguing about?”

Rip said, “Nothing.”

Mr. Rory raised his eyebrows at Rip then turned to Lenny. “We need someone to play poker with a bunch of top notch players to get a device that has been traded to them. How’s your ability to bluff?”

Lenny grinned at him, then at Rip. “I can handle bluffing the Santinis’ two eldest boys outta couple ten.”

“Already?” Mr. Rory turned to Lenny. “What the hell is wrong with your old man?”

“What was he supposed to do? Go in and play them himself?” Lenny smirked, and Mr. Rory chuckled at the image.

Rip gave an exasperated sigh. “So if you two have agreed that you’re doing it, I guess I’m not needed anymore. Just don’t get killed.” 

Lenny stepped in front of him. “Captain Hunter, I know this game. I can play this game. Poker, Gin, you name it. And you and I both know I am the best one for it.” He smiled that innocent smile, and hoped his eyes were doing the thing that had absolutely terrified the Gregory kids.

“Captain, a second,” Mr. Rory gestured at the door.

Rip glanced down at something, then back at Mr. Rory’s eyes. They left the room. Rip came back a good deal paler. “Mr. Snart, what will you need to accomplish this poker game?”

“Gideon makes fine clothing, right?” Lenny said. “I’m going to need some and a spare deck of cards and all the info you have on the place.”

\--

Palmer stored his amazing suit - the Atom Suit, he called it; Lenny could have thought up so many better names, many of them higher than PG rated - in his pocket when he wasn't wearing it. The poker game in 1950s Central did not require him to wear it. Lenny slipped his hand into Palmer's pocket prior to disembarking the ship and came away with the little suit in its little case. He excused himself to run back to his room to grab something. Back in his room, he blew up the suit, put the little time machine inside, returned it to its original size, and put into his pocket. Then, he grabbed his cards and headed back out, holding up the cards before anyone could ask what he had gone back for.

“Let’s go play.”

Ms. Lance came out in her finest. Mick gave a whistle. Ms. Lance turned to him with a raised eyebrow then looked at Lenny. “I’m sorry but you don’t look a day over sixteen.” 

“Watch me.” Lenny focused and moved where he showed his center of gravity, adjusted his coat, his neck, and Ms. Lance and Palmer took a step back. Jax stared and Professor Stein looked aghast. “That better?”

“How?” Stein asked.

Mr. Rory shook his head. 

“Lisa’s skating instructor calls it the male version of the murder walk,” Lenny explained.

Ms. Lance said, “It’s impressive.”

Mr. Rory shook his head again. “You still got baby cheeks. You won’t get past the bouncers.”

“Try me.”

Mr. Rory looked at him. “There’s another way we can do this. My partner taught it to me.”

“How?”

\--

Which was how they walked up the steps of the casino, one Elisabeth Chandler, already waiting inside, assassin, spy, probably FBI; one Elliott Burrows, hired muscle looking for a job; and one Leonard Burrows, Elliott Burrows’ younger half-brother, excellent planner, invited along to try his hand at poker, with word already spread into the poker players’ mind that that’s who they were. 

Sure enough, they were stopped by a bouncer at the door. “Stop right there, Baby-face.” Lenny gestured to himself, a querying look in his eye.

“No, the obviously underage person behind you,” the bouncer said, nodding at the other bouncer. 

Mr. Rory stepped over to him, sunglasses, suit jacket. “There a problem, gentlemen?”

The nearer bouncer nodded at Mr. Rory. “Who are you?”

Mr. Rory aimed to pull out an ID. 

“Hey!” The bouncer reached for his gun.

“It’s an ID, gentlemen. I’m not stupid enough to pull a gun on a bouncer.” He laughed and patted Lenny on the shoulder. “And I thought I ran hot, right, Leonard? Jeez. Here. You want to see?” Mr. Rory handed the ID over.

They looked, and their eyebrows went up. “Right this way, Mr. Burrows, and your brother.”

They approached the table. Lenny saw that Ms. Lance was indeed already inside, chatting with one of the tables and surveying the room.

Mr. Rory walked up to the table, swinging his suit jacket out of the way so his gun flashed. “Gentlemen,” he greeted to get their attention. They started reaching for their guns. “Oh no, please stay seated.” They still adjusted to show their weapons. 

“I’m Elliott Burrows. This is my younger half-brother. He would like to try his hand at your poker game.”

One man glanced Lenny’s direction and then back at Mr. Rory. “This is a serious game, Mr. Burrows.”

Lenny interrupted, “I am a serious player, Mr. Russo.” He identified that he knew the man’s real name. 

The man, sure enough, raised an eyebrow. “Playing you will be refreshing.”

“I’ll be over there, if anyone needs anything,” Mr. Rory gestured.

They played, Lenny cheating with the best of them, until Mr. Russo put the item on the table. Lenny was careful not to look too excited, but he did nod at it. “What’s that?”

“Someone put it up for a previous game. He priced it at around five thousand dollars and we have had it appraised for the same amount. Are you willing to call, given our scrutiny?”

“I’ll trust you and call your bet,” Lenny inclined his head and smiled at Mr. Russo. “However, should my brother find out you are bluffing, I’m really not sure what he’ll do.”

“Very well, young Mr. Burrows.”

“I will raise you my grandfather’s watch. It is worth at least twice what you have put down.” Someone across the table caught Lenny’s gaze with a nod, and for a moment, Lenny was thrown out of it, hands reaching down for a gun that was not there. “Who is that?” he whispered.

“Leonard, is everything alright?” Mr. Rory stepped over to him. The figure, whoever it was, had disappeared back into the crowd. Lenny raised his hand for Mr. Rory to stop. 

“Mr. Russo, will you call?”

“I am afraid you run too high for my hand. I will fold.”

Lenny inclined his head. “I will collect my winnings then. It was a very good game.” Lenny stood and spotted Mr. Rory. “Elliott, will you collect my winnings?” 

He glanced at the back door and saw the figure again by it. He disappeared through it. Lenny moved through the crowd after him, but by the time he got there, the figure was gone. However, the figure showed him where the back door was. 

“What are you doing?” Ms. Lance stopped him in the back hallway. 

“I thought I saw someone. If you’ll excuse me, I need to go. I will be back in ten minutes.”

Ms. Lance nodded. “Where are you going?”

He glanced forward to see Mr. Rory chasing in the chips. He turned to her. “To bury something in the foundation of my house. It relates to my plan to save his partner.”

Sara nodded and held open the door then stared out the door at a motorcycle, but no one sitting on it. “Who brought that?”

Lenny glanced at it too, smiling. “I have my suspicions. But I don’t want to voice them yet.”

He stepped through the door. “I need you to make sure Mr. Rory doesn’t know where I’ve gone.” He walked down to find that the motorcycle had keys.

“Can you drive that?”

He swung his leg over it and glanced down at it to see helpful markings on it. “We’ll find out.” He was able to start it and shot off down the road, holding onto the bike for dear life.

He arrived at the house. There was no lock on the bulkhead. He blew up the Atom Suit, took the Jules Verne out and put it on the top shelf on a shelf. He minimized the suit again, got back on the bike and shot back to the poker game. Now all that remained was somehow letting Mr. Rory's partner know where it was while he was on the Waverider. 

Mr. Rory was just finishing up cashing his winnings and several IOUs. Lenny swung the bathroom door next to the back door and nodded at Mr. Rory when he looked up. He walked over and smiled up at the man behind the counter. “How are we doing?” he said. 

“Good, I got new business.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah, so much I had to turn down a few.”

Lenny smiled. “Good for you. Shall we go?”

They left, carrying the item that did not below in that time, followed by Ms. Lance. The mob, thinking she was a spy, let her go after them without trying to stop any of them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, Mick came up with their names. Mick (and Len) are both as much dorks as Ray Palmer is.


	9. Chapter 9

When he got back to the ship, he slipped the little suit back into Palmer’s pocket. Palmer didn’t seem to notice that it had ever gone missing. Lenny thought that was adorable, but very, very naïve – like keeping a car door open when one parked it on the street; who even did that? 

Mr. Rory put the item down on the console and stood back, looking proud as a peacock. Lenny slid in next to Mr. Rory. Rip smiled at him as he did. Lenny almost did a double take. But no, there is was: Rip was looking at him with an impressed smile. Mr. Rory saw and patted him on the back.

“What is it?” Lenny asked. 

Rip turned his attention to the device and the smile fell into an excruciating expression of want. “It is a device that if activated can have access to multiple possible timestreams, and potentially bring things, and people, through,” he murmured.

Lenny saw Mr. Rory’s muscles take the revelation like a punch to the gut. He reached into Mr. Rory’s pocket and stuck the lighter he found into Mr. Rory’s hand. Mr. Rory jumped and gave him a weird look. Lenny gave a comforting smile up at him and closed Mr. Rory’s hand around his lighter. Then he turned to Rip. “Where would someone get something like this?” he asked.

“A time pirate too clever for his own good, likely,” Rip answered. Lenny nodded. Rip took a look at Mr. Rory, who was gazing at it, fingering the lighter in his hand, and at Ms. Lance, who was also giving it a considering look. “I will put this into my office behind lock and key.” He gave it the same yearning look himself and reached for it.

Stein interrupted the gesture with a hand over Rip’s. “I think we should destroy it, don’t you?” Jax nodded in agreement.

Rip looked around, at Mr. Rory’s face, at Lenny standing next to him, at Ms. Lance’s raised eyebrow. Then he turned towards Stein and Jax. “Yes, that would be best.”

Jax took Stein’s hand. They reached out to the thing. It dissolved. Mr. Rory swayed back on his feet and made a sound of pain as it did. 

“Well that’s done,” Ms. Lance sounded immensely sad.

Mr. Rory grunted. “Yeah, it’s done, and so are our dreams about bringing people back.” Lenny’s breath caught in his throat and he turned to Mr. Rory, reaching out then stopping. “I’m going to go sleep,” Mr. Rory said and stalked off, looking like he was going to go beat something up, possibly his fists against the wall.

Lenny glanced at Ms. Lance, who sighed, gazing after Mr. Rory then glancing at him. Their eyes met, and he nodded. Lenny headed off the opposite direction.

He slid down to Gideon’s testing room again and touched the big machine again. “Gideon, was that Mr. Rory’s partner I saw in the poker game?”

“Yes.”

Lenny smiled. “Does that mean I’m successful?”

“It means that you have tipped the scale towards success, but it is still not definite.”

“That’s a good sign, at least.” 

Gideon was silent. 

He sighed and thought about the rest of the plan. “I’ll still need that pill.”

“I have found the formula for an amnesia pill with the formula to reawaken the memories.”

“That’s good.”

“However, you must still get them to your previous self.”

Lenny nodded. “Could I bury the formula too? Or take the jumpship and give it to myself?”

Gideon seemed amused. “I have been instructed that you are not to take the jumpship anywhere by yourself. Additionally, would you take it, not knowing what the pills are for?” 

Lenny winced. Even now, he wouldn’t take a random pill that was given to him without first asking exactly what it did. However, if it wasn’t a random pill. He recalled what Mr. Rory had said about the painkillers. “You could slip it in with the painkillers.”

“Mr. Rory’s partner only required the painkillers three times while aboard. None of those times would he have taken them for anything less.”

He thought about it a little more, applied that to himself with how little he liked painkillers that were too strong, and winced. “Do I want to know?”

“Would it help you to know why?”

Lenny sighed and thought about it again. “Would it help with the Oculus in any way?”

“No.”

He decided that he would let that happen when it happened then. “What about the first time he required medical care? Or could you give it to me as a general health pill, like a vitamin or something. I would take it then. Would he take it?”

“He would take it then. There are also two times when he could have the time to plan. One time is after one of the times with the painkillers and he is in the med lab. One is earlier. Either would involve losing the first month or two of planning time.”

“But he could still do it?”

“If anyone could, Mr. Rory’s partner could. He needed to break Mr. Rory out of a Russian prison, and when I gave him the blueprints of a Russian prison, he wouldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear until he’d sorted out a way in, a way out, and a dozen or so prison puns to make.”

Lenny considered: there was probably some inside joke there, wasn’t there? “Why is there a Russian prison?” he ventured, realized Gideon would actually tell him and that that would get them off topic, and held up his hand. “Never mind, I’ll ask Mr. Rory.” Mr. Rory would probably know. “So then it will be in the time he is in the med lab.”

“But I can only if you can get the information back to me.”

He sighed and leaned back to think. “Yes, that is the issue, isn’t it? How do you find out the correct formula for something? Does it have any data about how big it should be? Does this change ever?”

“Updates to the amnesia pills tend to be input through a system like barcodes, which includes data on how they should be administered.”

His mind crossed the idea of the tattoos again. “Gideon, would there be a tattoo you could put on me that you could scan when you scan… him? And could you put instructions into it that he should take it with the painkillers.”

Gideon seemed to be thinking about it. “Yes. That will work.”

“Great. Where do you need me so you can apply the tattoo?”

“Go to the med lab, and I will administer the tattoo.” He nodded, took a deep breath, and went up to find the med lab empty.

\--

The following morning, sitting in the kitchen eating breakfast, he winced a little as he began to feel the nerves in his upper arm start to react to the tattoo. Mr. Rory was sitting there, next to him, but had done little more than grunt when Ms. Lance came in and said good morning. 

When he winced, however, Mr. Rory turned to him sharply. “Why are you wincing?”

Lenny shrugged at the intensity with which Mr. Rory had said that. “My arm hurts a little.”

“Gideon,” Mr. Rory said, “Fix him.”

“It’s fine. I pulled it yesterday. Took ibuprophen for it then. Now it’s wearing off. That’s all.” Mr. Rory still seemed wary. Lenny reassured him again, “Hurts less than a beating.”

Mr. Rory slammed his hands down on the table, making everything on it, including Palmer’s cereal, jump. “Your father’s a dirtbag sonovabitch.”

Lenny tightened his shoulders. “Nobody asked you for your opinion on my dad.” Remembering where this conversation had previously gone, he added, “And keep your hands and lighter away from him too, Mr. Rory.” Mr. Rory made a sound of negation. “It’s between me and him,” Lenny insisted.

Mr. Rory turned to him. “You’re going to regret that when he starts going after your sister.”

“He wouldn’t.” There was an unspoken “he wouldn’t dare” in his tone. Lenny’s entire posture changed into a far more combative one. His jaw tensed. His lips tightened. His shoulder tensed back. Ms. Lance and Palmer were both watching the exchange. Ms. Lance made a noise following this statement. 

“He wouldn’t or he wouldn’t dare, which is it, Lenny?” Mr. Rory asked, tugging Lenny’s shoulder so he would turn to face him.

Lenny swatted his hand away. “He only hits me when I fuck something up. She will never fuck anything up.”

Mr. Rory got a purchase on his shoulders and turned him to face him. “He ever had a little too much to drink ever when he hits you? Huh?”

Lenny could feel Mr. Rory’s thumbs on his tattoo, tried to shrug out of his grip and found he couldn’t. He felt his heart rate start to go up at being trapped. “Shut up!”

Mr. Rory pulled him closer. “He sometimes do it for no reason you can think of?”

Lenny felt his lungs starting to have trouble getting air. He had no way to protect himself with Mr. Rory holding him like that. “I said shut up!” He curled his hands into fists and shoved at Mr. Rory, to no effect. Mr. Rory pressed his hands harder into Lenny’s upper arms. Lenny spotted one way out and reached for it. Almost there.

“He sometimes -.”

His pinkie caught Mr. Rory’s heat gun, pulled it out enough for him to get a firm purchase on it and leveled it at Mr. Rory’s head. Mr. Rory let go of him with one hand, put his hand to his holster, found it empty, and met Lenny’s eyes. “I said shut up, Mick. Now, get the hell off me.”

Mr. Rory let go of him, falling back into his seat with his mouth agape. “How long have you known?” he asked.

“That you were Mick? I guess I’ve known since… well, you must’ve forgotten that the first thing you said to me in juvie after you saved me was a statement on how you had no family.”  
“I could have come along later.”

“No, you couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have trusted you. Now you tell me my father doesn’t smack Lisa.”

Mr. Rory – future Mick – shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

Lenny swung at his chest. “No! He doesn’t! He doesn’t! He doesn’t!” He punctuated his remarks with more shoves. He was aware he was sniffling back sobs, and he aimed to shove against Mick’s chest again, but Mick grabbed ahold of him and pulled him into a hug.

“I want to take you away from all that, damn the timeline. And Lisa too,” Mick said.

“Mick, you can’t,” Ms. Lance said.

Mick looked at her for a second and at Palmer as well, set his jaw and turned back to Lenny. “As it is, the second you turn eighteen, you file for custody of her. It takes till you turn nineteen, but you get it, Lenny. My twenty year old ass puts on a suit and goes to family court with you to make sure you do. But you get it. You get custody of her soon as she’s nine.” 

Lenny stopped sobbing and brightening up at Mick, the sobs in the back of his throat releasing as tears in the backs of his eyes. He wiped his hand across his face. “Do either of us have any idea what to do with her?”

Mick laughed. “Nope. Didn’t stop us from trying. You made me get my license to drive her to and from school. Hell, you make me get a day job, just so I can have something to say when guardian-teacher conferences come around, or the social worker those first few years. And you’ll never hear me saying it but it’s actually pretty fun.” 

Lenny nodded. “Wouldn’t get you something you wouldn’t like.” He drew the next conclusion from Mick’s remarks, and hoped the answer was yes. “So we stay together right, you and me?”  
Ms. Lance makes a sound that sounds like she’s been kicked in the gut.

“Lenny,” Mick Rory reached out.

“Do we?” Lenny repeated.

Mick had closed his eyes. “Off and on, yeah. We have our fights. But you give me this.” He tapped his heat gun. “It forgives a lot. And you have one yourself. Generates cold. You tinker with it until it freezes things pretty darn cold.”

“That sounds… cool.” Lenny’s face showed that he knew he had made a pun.

Palmer groaned. Lenny turned to him with a grin.

Mick laughed. “You decide you and me are going to become supervillains on top of being top notch thieves.”

Lenny sighed. “So we never stop being thieves?”

“Would you have wanted to? Tell me honestly. I have encountered my teenage self on this thing. I can go back and smack some sense into him, if you want me to.”  
“Mick,” Lenny said. 

“Would you?”

Lenny thought about it. “Does Lisa become a thief too?”

Mick shrugged. “Yes, but you do well by her, Snart.”

Lenny shook his head. “Dad still hurts her though. And she still becomes a thief.”

Mick shrugged. “By her own choice. And you pay for her to finish high school and get a college degree. Mechanical engineering, too.”

Palmer made a sound. Lenny cast his eyes over at Palmer with a raised eyebrow, but otherwise, didn’t care what had made Palmer make that sound.

“Sounds like quite the life, Mick.” He can feel himself wanting to start laughing and sob and scream all at the same time, which is probably a sign that he’s going to want to be alone in a few moments to deal with the rest of this. “So, I’m gonna say this once, ‘cause I probably don’t say it, like ever: probably, when I say partner, I ain’t just saying criminal. I… uh… what I mean to say is I care about you, a lot. I would have said it in juvie, but I was scared.”

Mick looked absolutely devastated, and fuck, there were tears in his eyes – he must have never said that. 

And there it was, wasn’t it? Because he was dead now in some self-sacrificing way that gets him labelled a hero, after living all his life as a thief, which alright, he didn’t mind but it’s one thing to think that one wouldn’t mind, it’s quite another to know that one’s middle-aged self is still doing it. And then he died doing some self-sacrificing bull. 

Lenny felt himself wanting to start screaming and never stop. His eyes were starting to burn. “Mick, hey.” He tapped his future partner’s shoulder. “You get me till I’m forty four before I die doing something self-sacrificing and stupid.”

“Lenny, how did you…?”

“It was kind of obvious,” Lenny said to him, and felt a tear run down his face. “I could have died a lot earlier on a job.”

“Never. You’re too good a planner.”

Lenny smiled but he felt overwhelmed by the statement and that fact that this Mick was his Mick and not, was his Mick in the future. “Good to know. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to go to my room and deal with all of this.”

“Lenny,” Mick said.

Lenny brushed by a worried looking Rip, who had just come in for breakfast, and out of the room.


	10. Chapter 10

Lenny went to his room, put his face into his pillow and screamed into it, hiccupped and screamed some more. When he had finished, he beat up his pillow, then sat back tucked up small in the corner of the bed, trying to calm down and most of all not to cry. 

Finally, he glanced at the wall, popped the vent off, and slid back down to Gideon. He was determined not to die at the hands of the Oculus when he was forty four, now more than ever. He would come back. While he did have to admit, it was kind of nice to know someone was mourning, it would be even better to come back and see the expression on Mick’s face when he was alive. 

But if he was unsuccessful in the future… What if despite his planning, he wasn’t able to avoid it, and did die and wasn’t able to come back? And Mick had to keep mourning him? Would it be better for Mick if he told him he had a chance or didn’t? And would it be better for him? 

“Gideon. I’m scared,” he admitted when he had made it down there. “What makes me think I’ll be any better at planning this thing in the future than I am now?”  
“You could plan it now and remember it in the future,” the AI said.

He nodded. “Will I definitely remember it in the future? It would involve knowing an awful lot about the Oculus, from what I’ve been able to determine.”

There was an audible pause. “I cannot guarantee you will remember all of it. You will remember it with your long term memory, but there is a lot of information there.”

The way Gideon said that sounded a lot more final than he liked. “Couldn’t I just pull anything I don’t remember up then?” 

“Unfortunately not, Mr. Snart. My databanks didn’t have access to information on the Oculus while the Time Masters were still in charge.”

Lenny rested his head against the wall. “Crap.” That meant that his plan to leave that data there would not work. “How many pages of data would it take to print it all?” If it would take too many, he could print it and store it somewhere and read it later.

“Enough to fill five foot by five foot room.”

He whistled. “Not an option then. Would there be something like a floppy that it could be stored on that I could bring with me?”

“I can etch data onto whatever would be easiest to keep with you and read it in the future.”

“Like the tattoo? Could you tattoo it onto me?” 

“I could. However, I would recommend against it. It would be a very different amount and type of data than the formula for an amnesia pill.”

Lenny nodded. “So I just have to keep it with me?”

“Yes.”

“Alright. Go through things I could use.”

“If I may make a suggestion, I would ask Mr. Rory.”

\--

After breakfast and after long enough had passed that Sara was starting to worry about Lenny and Mick, she went to Lenny’s room in search of him. There was no one to be found. She ducked her head into the bridge, where Ray and Stein were. “Have either of you seen Lenny?” They should their heads.

A quick search revealed that no one could find him either. When she checked the maintenance room, she found Mick, sitting against the maintenance room wall flicking his lighter on and off against sheets of paper he had found there, then flicking them out into the middle of the room to watch them burn when the flames hit his fingers. She walked back out without interrupting.

“Gideon,” she asked. “Do you know where Lenny is?”

“He will come up when he is ready,” Gideon answered.

Sara blinked up at the ceiling where Gideon’s speakers were. It wasn’t Gideon’s usual response to a request for someone’s location and hopefully meant that Lenny had told Gideon not to say where he was. She requested clarification, “But you know where he is?”

“I am keeping an eye on him, yes.”

Sara nodded then remembered what Mick was doing in the other room. “Could you keep an eye on Mick too?”

\--

The vent flew off the wall of the maintenance room. Lenny crawled out and stood, looking anywhere in the room other than Mick. 

“Hi… Mick,” he said, running a hand over his head and sighing. 

“Lenny. Ms. Lance was looking for you earlier.”

“I was with Gideon. Talking about stuff.” Lenny took his hand down from his head.

“What about?” 

“Things. Future things.” He shrugged, paused then shrugged again. “I miss Lisa.” 

Mick nodded. “We can go back and take her with us.”

“Mick,” he said by way of warning. Mick smiled at him as though he had such familiarity with the warning that he imagined his warnings to Mick didn’t change a lot in thirty years. He met Mick’s eyes then sighed, “Mick, I need something from you.”

“Anything. I’ll give you anything you need. You want me to kill someone, I will. You want me not to, fine. I agree.” 

Lenny closed his eyes and smiled. “I know and I thank you. But I need a thing you know I won’t lose. Like a memento. I don’t want to lose it, ever.”

Mick rocked his head back, blinked and frowned, considering and reaching for something at his chest. Then, however, he stopped, curling his fingers in his shirt. 

“You know a thing. What?” Lenny prompted.

Mick took a breath in, nodded again, reached into his shirt, and pulled out a ring on a chain. Lenny looked up at him as he slid it off the chain and held it in his hand. “You wore it on your thumb or middle finger when you were young,” he realized the way he had said that to young Lenny and winced, “when we were both slightly older than you are now, because you were worried it would fall off your pinkie. When you're older, you switch to wearing it on your pinkie. You always said I gave it to you, and I felt kind of bad that I didn’t remember giving you it. Guess now I know why.” He offered it to Lenny.

Lenny picked it up and slid it on his pointer finger, then grinned at it and wiggled his fingers at Mick. “I won’t lose it.” 

“I know.” Mick nodded. 

“I’m going to go have Gideon etch something into this. I promise I won’t lose it. Ever.” Mick nodded again, and Lenny slid back into the air duct and down to Gideon, and went out to find the others.

\--

Sara went to a few more places that Lenny could be. He was in none of them. She considered the floor, realized that she had not yet checked the places that Leonard said he had cased, and determined that she was going to inspect it after going to see whether the rest of the team had had any luck with the main level of the Waverider. 

She reentered the bridge to find Rip, Stein, Jax and Ray discussing what should be done - rather heatedly on Ray and Rip’s part, judging by their facial expressions.

“What’s going on?” she asked.

“The timeline will set with him out of time if we keep him for too much longer, I’m afraid,” Rip explained.

"We'd better return him to 1987 then," Stein agreed.

“We can’t just return him, not knowing what we know about him now! It would be leaving him and his sister in their father’s abusive clutches!” Ray insisted.

"Well, he can’t just remain out here with us for the rest of his life,” Rip shook his head. “No, he will have to go back, and he will have to take an amnesia pill, so that he doesn't mess with the timeline."

"You really think he's going to?" Sara asked, walking over to them.

Jax turned to her. "With his little sister in danger of being abused by their dad?" He raised an eyebrow. “What do you think?”

“We’re keeping him and going back for Lisa and getting them out of there,” said a voice from the other door. They looked up to see Mick, shoulders leaned forward and hand dancing around his heat gun like he was prepared to plow through and light anybody on fire who said otherwise.

"Hello, Mick. I thought you were busy,” Sara said, taking in the unhooked heat gun at his side and the expression on his face.

Rip started, “I’m sorry, Mick. We can’t-.”

Mick pulled out his heat gun and aimed it at Rip’s head. “Say mess with the timeline, and I will burn you where you stand. We are getting him and Lisa out of there, fuck the timeline.”

“So he’ll never meet you again?” Ray asked.

“You objecting to me being not selfish now, Haircut?” Mick said without taking his gun off Rip.

“So you can likely stay in prison for the rest of your life on arson charges?” Jax said.

“Likely, yeah. And the two of us’ll never come aboard the Waverider and destroy the Oculus for you while you get to go off into the sunset and play time cop like your dream come true.”

“You are aware that what happened, happened? That there is no way to undo it even with taking Mr. Snart out of time?” Rip said. Mick charged up the heat gun.  
Sara put her hand on Mick’ shoulder. “Mick, listen to me. Leonard needs to go home. He can’t stay aboard the Waverider. What if something were to happen in the course of us doing our job to him?”

Mick turned to her, leaving the heat gun trained on Rip.

“What if the Waverider falls victim to time pirates again or a room in the Waverider gets frozen again or something? What if he gets shot?” Sara asked him. “What if something happens to Lisa? What if years go by and they are not happy here? What if he wants to go back and meet with you, which it sounds like he wants to?”

Mick let her take his heat gun out of his hand, absolutely devastated by the knowledge that they would have to return Lenny and soon. "We should return him then. But no amnesia pill.”

“What? Are you crazy?” Ray said. 

Mick looked like he wanted to aim his heat gun at Ray, but found that Sara had it in her hand. “Hear me out. He gets Lisa out of there first chance he gets: three years and a couple months, he files for custody, and is awarded it when Lisa starts talking about what Lewis did to the two of them. I was at the courthouse with him to get custody of her. He keeps an eye on Lewis till then, making sure she doesn’t get the brunt of it,” Mick screwed up his face, “I still think we should set Lewis on fire. However, Lenny will know. One time, when Lewis wanted Snart to run with his stupid job that Snart kept saying was gonna get the crew killed, I tried to, but then Snart found out and didn’t talk to me for nearly a year after it. But I still think we should go threaten Lewis.” He looked around the room. Ray and Jax looked like they were considering it. Sara was tapping her weapon.

Mick nodded, getting back to the topic at hand, which was getting them not to give Lenny the amnesia pill. “But as for Lenny, he makes sure his rap sheet stays clean till he gets custody of Lisa. Even makes me get a job and he gets a job to keep it clean. I get my license 'cause Lenny wants a responsible driver to drive her to school and skating practice, and god only knows, he can’t drive anything bigger than a motorcycle responsibly.” Sara made a noise, remembering the jumpship. Mick nodded.

“And they get me a book on cooking 'cause I know what vegetables and proper protein are. Until then, though, Lenny makes a mean mac and cheese, ramen, pizza. And he showed up on my doorstep first thing when I get out saying try frybread. Where else would he have had frybread?”

Rip turned to him, gaping. "Are you saying all you were trying to teach him over the past week was things that that he knew in the timeline?"

Mick nodded. "That’s what I said, Captain." Rip stared at him, as did Jax.

"How does that work?" Stein asked.

"We both really liked a lot of nerdy movies, like Back to the Future and things. We had the typical teenage debates about time travel. Closed loop, open loop. That sort of thing."

Now Jax turned to Mick. "Are you saying he already knew about the Waverider before Rip showed up?"

"I'm saying I wouldn't be surprised. Also, if we don’t give him anything, he’s got a chance of making it out of the Oculus alive.” 

Ray sat. "Wow. I hadn’t previously considered that as an option."

Rip similarly sat, with an expression of dismay on his face.

"Yeah. Keep making that face.” Mick considered for a moment. “If we leave him his memories, I’ll agree to it under one condition.”

“What’s that?” Rip asked.

“We go and threaten Lewis that if he hurts Lenny or Lisa in any permanent way, that we will make him wish he was dead quickly. Got it?”

Ray nodded. “Okay. We will.” 

“Now I'm going to get drunk, because now, the best hope of getting my partner back is sending his teenage self back into that, and I feel like shit ‘cause I’m agreeing to do that to him. You are welcome to join me." He went to Rip’s office.

Sara sighed. “No.”

Mick turned to her mid drawer pull. “What’s that, Birdie?”

Sara shook her head. “I don’t agree to it.”

Ray stared at her. “I can’t believe I’m agreeing to threaten someone and you’re not.”

Sara clarified, “Oh, I have no objections to that. Let’s go threaten him. I have an objection to what we want to do with Lenny. He can’t go through life knowing he’s going to die when he turns forty four. That will mess him up.”

Mick slammed the drawer shut. “How else do you suggest then? Because I am not removing any of those memories.”

Sara nodded. “We should ask him if he wants those memories.”

Mick grunted in response and opened a cabinet. “He needs those memories. Without them, things could have been a lot worse for both of them.”

Sara asked, “Are you sure he wasn’t already keeping an eye on his father by himself?”

Rip cleared his throat, looking embarrassed. “There are ways that he could subconsciously remember particularly strong memory paths, if he happens to encounter a thing he had previously had a strong emotion towards, even with the amnesia pill.” 

Sara, Ray, Jax and Stein all turned to stare at Rip. 

Mick came out of his office with a bottle of alcohol. “Wondering when you were going to be honest about that.” He sat down across from Sara and looked at the bottle. “2066, good year,” he said to Rip. 

Rip shrugged at him in an exasperated way, though whether this was because of the statement about Rip’s honesty, or the alcohol, or both was unclear. Mick gestured at him with the bottle. “I’m surprised you still have alcohol in there, what with Snart, Lance, and me stealing every single bottle we found in your office.” Mick turned back to Sara. “Now, Birdie. Why can’t we let him keep his memories?”

“No.” Sara shook her head again.

“We can’t be sure he will regain them,” Rip said. “It only happens once in a while.”

“I get the feeling he will make sure he remembers what he needs to,” Sara said.

“He got a plan or something?” Mick asked.

Sara shrugged. “I don’t know. He said he was coming up with something.”

Mick stared. “Jeez, Snart.” He took a gulp of alcohol and held out the bottle. “Now, our greatest hope is that he remembers it somehow, and you still want him to take a pill to make him forget?”

Sara sighed. “He does need to take something so he doesn’t remember it. Or it will mess with him.”

Mick grunted in disagreement. “And I’m telling you, Snart can handle it.”

Sara continued, “As someone who’s been dead and come back to life, I can confirm that I would not have wanted to know that I was going to die before. But we should ask him. He’s been coming up with the plan.”

“Snart and his plans.” Mick smiled and shook his head. 

“It might involve forgetting.”

“What does it entail?” Stein asked.

Sara shook her head. “I don’t know, just that he has one.”

Ray nodded. 

Rip turned to him. “Do I even want to know?”

Ray shrugged. “He asked me for information on the Oculus, saying something about making a plan.” 

Rip and Mick turned to him. “You do realize that we had that locked away from him for a reason, yes?” 

“When did he ask you for this?” Sara asked.

“Before we stopped off in 1950 for that poker game, why?” Ray asked.

“He slipped out of the poker game for ten minutes.”

Mick stared at Sara. “So he’s got a plan for how he can remember things.” Sara nodded. “Jeez, Snart.” He took another swig then handed Sara the bottle. “If his plans involve him taking an amnesia pill, fine. But I’m still going to get drunk and judge all of you and myself.” He took another swallow of the alcohol and offered it to the rest of the room.

Sara met his eyes. “May his plans be successful,” she said. He nodded. She took the bottle and took a sip.

Ray took the offered bottle. “Here’s to that.”

They passed it around for an hour, including to Rip.

Mick drank till he could barely stand and then sat in one of the seats, staring at Snart’s windowsill.  
\--

As Gideon was encoding the ring with information on the Oculus, Lenny took a permanent market and wrote on his arm. “Frybread. Go find Mick Rory. Watch Dad around Lisa. Mac and cheese and ramen.” 

When Gideon said she was done, he put on the ring, climbed back up to the bridge, and glanced out at the room. 

“I need to go home soon, don’t I?” Lenny said. Mick stared at his feet. Lenny looked at Ms. Lance, then at Rip. 

“Do you want to?” Ms. Lance asked.

He nodded. “I miss Lisa. I think I need to go home.”

They all started talking at once.

“You’ll need to take an amnesia pill-,” Rip said.

“You said we’d ask-,” Mick said.

“Does he even know what an amnesia pill is? Shouldn’t we explain?” Stein asked.

“Thirty years with the knowledge of when he will die, Mick,” Ms. Lance said.

Lenny cleared his throat. “Gideon and I have already discussed this. I am prepared to forget everything that happened this week,” he glanced at Mick and Ms. Lance, “As much as I don’t want to, I think it would be best.”

Rip nodded. “I will have Gideon produce the amnesia pill.”

Lenny held up a hand and approached Rip. “Let me. Trust me, Captain Hunter, I will forget.”

\--

The time ship set down in the park in 1987, a week after it had originally left. A big man and a lady in a cool outfit walked a thin teenager down the ramp to the park. “Here is the amnesia pill,” Sara said. “Gideon produced it.” She handed Lenny the pill. 

He nodded. “Thanks, pretty punk lady.” He grinned at her.

“You’re gonna break hearts when you’re older, you know.”

He smiled, ducking his head. “And in half an hour, I ain’t gonna remember a word of this conversation, so any accusations you give me that should be aimed at an older me, I’ll just forget.”

“Lenny, get over here,” Mick said. Lenny nodded and came closer. “You don’t have to take it, if you don’t want. You can tell me truthfully. If you don’t want it, just spit it out.”

Lenny “Mick Rory, I need to take it. But don’t worry.” Lenny pushed up his sleeve. “Look, I have it noted here: ‘Try frybread. Find you. Keep an eye on Dad, particularly around Lisa. And mac and cheese.’”

“You will come find me, got it?” Mick said. 

“I do, right?”

Mick nodded. "Yeah, I get out of Keystone in a couple weeks if I remember correctly."

Lenny smiled. “I’ll come find you. And you and me, we stay together, right? For thirty years?”

Mick closed his eyes. “Yeah, Lenny, on and off.”

Lenny found there were tears on Mick’s face and felt something wet slide down his own. He looked away, blinking back tears. “Hey, Mick?” he said. 

“Yeah?”

“I have a plan that may or may not save my future self. But if I don’t make it, I just want to say I think I…” He blushed, opened his mouth, blush deepening. “Can I hug you?” Lenny asked.

Mick nodded and embraced him and stood that way, with Mick crouching down to hug him and Lenny standing there on his tip toes hugging back for a long time. 

Then Lenny pulled back. “Do I ever get any better at the sentimental thing?”

Mick winced.

“So that’s a no?” 

“Neither of us really do the sentimental thing,” Mick said. 

“Figured as much.” Lenny held up the pill. “I’m gonna take this now.” 

Mick nodded and Lenny put in in his mouth. “See you around, kid.” Mick gave him a smile and got back aboard the Waverider.

The Waverider disappeared in a burst of light.

\--

“Captain, I feel I should inform you that the same number of passengers is still aboard as the Waverider as the team left with.”

“Not again,” Rip groaned. “Where is he?”

“I believe he is on the bridge, Captain Hunter.”

Mick was already striding for the bridge, followed closely by Sara. 

Mick and Sara entered to find Leonard Snart, the man of forty-four years, lounging there in the window, feet sprawled across his favorite spot on the window ledge. “What took you all so long?” he greeted them with a smirk.

Mick was across the room in a second, picking adult Len up and hugging him like he would never let go. “I missed you, you dumbass self-sacrificing idiot. I missed you so much I couldn’t bear it.”

Len put his arms around Mick’s back and his head on his shoulder. “Good to hear you aren’t mad at me for knocking you out again.”

Mick pulled back, gaping at him. “You think I’m mad at you for…? Snart, you’re brilliant about some things, but I swear to God, others… Jeez, Snart, you thought I’d be mad at you? Only because you sacrificed yourself, like an absolute heroic moron, you asshole.”

Len laughed and leaned back on his shoulder. “I love you, too, Mick.”

Mick gaped at him even harder. "You said it."

Len smirked at him. "Yes, I did. What are you going to do about it, Mick Rory?"

Mick pulled him in for a kiss. They were still at it when the others walked in.


End file.
